


The Marauder's Child

by mymoonyandstars



Series: The Moonlit Series [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Sexual Assault, Background Relationships, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, But he's actually not, Character Death, Complicated Relationships, Death Eaters, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Language, F/M, Family Bonding, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fenrir Greyback Is His Own Warning, Fenrir Greyback does Fenrir Greyback things, Gen, Greyback is kinda nice, He's literally the actual worst, Historically Accurate Full Moon Calendar, Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff Pride, I don't think you can expect anything less, I genuinely don't know how anyone can write Greyback as nice, I'm an agent of chaos, I'm so sorry, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, LGBTQ Character, My tags are a lie, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Remus Lupin, Parent Sirius Black, Recovered Memories, Recreational Drug Use, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, Secrets, Strained Friendships, Tags Are Hard, This is not a nice Fenrir Greyback, Triwizard Tournament, Werewolf Culture, Werewolves, but also not really, no beta. we die like men., slight slow burn, wolfstar daughter, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:08:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 50
Words: 391,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27216190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mymoonyandstars/pseuds/mymoonyandstars
Summary: Emma Lupin was just settling into her new life when everything was taken away from her. Between new anti-werewolf legislation, secret meetings with Greyback, and discovering the full secrets of her past, her journey is just beginning. Stripped of her identity, Emma has to grow up and rely on unlikely allies to bring her family back together. Will anything ever be the same?We have a Discord for the series! Drop a comment for the link and come join the best group of people I've ever met. :D☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾Year One:A Window to the PastYear Two:Dark TranquilityYear Three:Daughter of the Moon
Relationships: Emma Lupin/George Weasley, Emma Lupin/Greyson Fenmore, George Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: The Moonlit Series [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561660
Comments: 191
Kudos: 75





	1. Letters and Papers

**HOGWARTS PROFESSOR A WEREWOLF**

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has had a very interesting year. Who knew that Hogwarts had something equally as dangerous as Sirius Black lurking around the school? Albus Dumbledore, known for his eccentric decision making, hired a werewolf to serve on the school staff._

_Remus Lupin, werewolf, was hired to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Following a near attack on students on the twenty-fourth, Lupin was arrested at his home in the early afternoon on the twenty-seventh. Lupin, a previously unregistered werewolf, has a teenage daughter, Emma Lupin. She has since been removed from the home for her safety. It is unclear as to whether or not she was aware of her father's affliction._

_"We are taking all possible precautions to ensure that Miss Lupin remains safe," Ellis Moon of the Auror department stated. When asked for further comment, he declined._

_Comments from students have ranged from greatly disappointed to terrified._

_"I always thought that there was something strange about him," says Jocelyn Carmichael of Slytherin. "It wasn't a surprise to me that he was a werewolf at all. He can be scary."_

_"I thought he was a really nice man," said Elijah Owens of Ravenclaw. "I'm upset that he thought it would be all right to teach us."_

_While Dumbledore has assured the Daily Prophet staff that Lupin was never a danger to students, we at the Daily Prophet disagree. We have since learned that Remus Lupin was attacked by Fenrir Greyback. It's to be expected that Lupin also exhibits the same savage tendencies as Greyback._

_The idea of The Boy Who Lived being in such close company of such a dangerous creature is horrifying. We also have reason to suspect that Lupin was responsible for allowing Sirius Black into the castle and aiding in his escape._

_We hope that Emma and her fellow classmates will recover from such heinous crimes._

_-Rita Skeeter_

**28 June, 1994**

> Dear Miss Lupin,
> 
> We regret to inform you that your adoption has been dissolved.
> 
> Werewolves do not have the right to adopt a child, magical or otherwise, under the Werewolf Code of Conduct, 1612. Furthermore, adoption has been made illegal by the Werewolf Protection Act, 1993, Section 3, Paragraph A.
> 
> We understand that you are currently residing with your grandfather in Wales. A Ministry official will arrive on 15 July to discuss your current arrangement.
> 
> Hoping you are well,
> 
> Yours sincerely,  
>  Morey Hopkins  
>  Department of Magical Law Enforcement  
>  Administrative Registration Department  
>  Ministry of Magic

**☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾**

**DANGEROUS WEREWOLF KIDNAPPED CHILD**

_Here at the Daily Prophet, we have received many owls asking for updates on Emma Lupin and her safety. We strive to report the news as accurately as possible, and in our research, we have made a surprising discovery. Emma Lupin, known officially as Emelyn Theodosia Nickels, may have been kidnapped._

_In our research, we found that Emelyn was born to Margaret Lupin, Remus Lupin's sister…_

**29 June, 1994**

> Hello Emma,
> 
> I've read what they've been writing in the Daily Prophet, and the Ministry simply cannot allow this to happen. I can't believe what they are writing about you and Professor Lupin. He did nothing wrong, and it's preposterous that they would allow that last article to be published. I don't understand why they would say that he kidnapped you when that's so far from the truth. I highly doubt that if he kidnapped you, you would be so close to him – you two are practically the same person!
> 
> I'm going to do all the research that I possibly can. They can't keep you away from your father when you're so obviously his.
> 
> Write back to me soon,
> 
> Love,  
>  Hermione

**29 June, 1994**

> Hi Emma,
> 
> How are you doing? I just wanted to check up on you. I can't imagine the past few days have been easy at all.
> 
> It's been a bit difficult here. Mum got into a right snit when she saw the first article about Professor Lupin, but she understands now. Dad's absolutely furious about what they're doing to you. He's been trying to talk to Cedric's dad to see what can be done, and I think he's spoken to your grandfather a few times. I'm sure you're both absolutely gutted, but Dad says it'll all be okay.
> 
> Mum and Dad said that you can come by at any time you'd like. They'd like to meet you – not because of what's happened, of course, but because I've brought you up so many times. Fred keeps teasing me about it. It's a bit embarrassing, really.
> 
> Send an owl when you can come around. You can Floo over, or maybe we can come to get you.
> 
> Miss you,  
>  George

**☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾**

**30 June, 1994**

> Dear Miss Nickels,
> 
> Since our last message dated 28 June 1994, we have received intelligence that your birth records have been amended under false information. We regretfully inform you that the amendments were not approved.
> 
> We have sent a letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to notify them of this error.
> 
> According to our previous records, your birth certificate was amended with our offices, dated 18 December 1993 and 12 April 1992. Unfortunately, this was done under false information. We will be sending you a copy of your last recorded birth certificate, dated 16 October 1980, for your records.
> 
> We ask that you please destroy any paperwork containing your amended information. If you attempt to file any paperwork under falsified information, we will be forced to take legal action.
> 
> Yours sincerely,  
>  Morey Hopkins  
>  Department of Magical Law Enforcement  
>  Administrative Registration Department  
>  Ministry of Magic

**30 June, 1994**

> Dear Emma,
> 
> How are you doing? I always feel odd using an owl to send a letter, but I've been at Ernie's, and he let me use his owl. Ernie's not thrilled that I'm writing to you, but I don't care.
> 
> I just wanted to see how you were doing. Can't say much about the summer so far, but at least we're not at school anymore. It's nice to not have to do homework for a bit. Can you believe that we're fourth years now? It seems absolutely mental!
> 
> If it's easier, you can send me a letter by regular post. I'm staying at Ernie's until August as Mum and Dad are away for work. You remember that my mum doesn't like owls too much, so this will be nice. I'll add Ernie's address at the bottom of the letter, so you know where to write, just in case you don't want to owl. They've got a post box and everything, so it'll show up!
> 
> \- Justin

**☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾**

**1 July, 1994**

> Dear Emma,
> 
> I hope you're doing all right. Gran's been around the Ministry a few times to try and find out what's been going on. She thinks the entire thing is ridiculous.
> 
> Gran said if you'd like, you and your grandfather can come by at some point this summer. I'd like to show you the garden. I think you'd like it.
> 
> \- Neville

**1 July, 1994**

> Hello Emma,
> 
> I heard the most beautiful story from my Dad the other day. It made me think of you and Professor Lupin. I'll have to tell you when we get back to school. I believe you'll enjoy it.
> 
> Dad said that you might have a Blibbering Humdinger around you. He said that if you're worried about them, you can make something with lavender, and it will keep them away.
> 
> I hope you're well.
> 
> Love,  
>  Luna

**1 July, 1994**

> Hi Emma,
> 
> It's been a few days. Usually, you would have written back by now. Are you all right?
> 
> I've still been doing research, and I'm tempted to write the Ministry to find out what laws they're citing. You look exactly like Professor Lupin. They can't dare say that you're not his child.
> 
> Please write back,  
>  Hermione

**1 July, 1994**

> Hi Daddy,
> 
> I knew I should have gone home with you that day.
> 
> I knew it, I knew it, I knew it.
> 
> Grandpa told me when he got home from work that you're finally home. He keeps trying to make me go out and do things when he gets back. I don't want to. I just want to be home with you.
> 
> He keeps trying to take me to Diagon Alley to get a new wand, but I refuse to go without you. I was hoping that maybe Mr. Ollivander would be able to repair my wand, and you have it at home. I loved it, and I like that it's similar to yours. I don't want to have to try and learn a new wand all over again.
> 
> I don't like not having my things. I miss my books. I wish I had the rest of my clothes. Nothing fits here, and of course, I have the things I'm not entirely fond of. That sounds incredibly selfish of me… I wish I had Boris and Bee. I wish I had you. I hate this.
> 
> Please, just come and take me home. I don't care where we go. I don't want to be here anymore. Maybe we can go to America. I read that their werewolf laws are nothing like the laws here. We can find somewhere with lots of woods or even just open fields with no one around. I don't care where we go. I just want to be with you.
> 
> Love,  
>  Emma

**☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾**

**EMELYN NICKELS SECRETLY A WEREWOLF?**

_It's no secret that Albus Dumbledore, unconventional Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has made some questionable decisions. As it turns out, Remus Lupin is not the only werewolf to have been walking the halls of Hogwarts._

_We have received intelligence that Emelyn could potentially be a werewolf as well. An anonymous source has provided information regarding Emelyn's blood status. Sometime last year, she was admitted into St. Mungo's following a medical emergency that we have yet to uncover. It turns out that she carries the disease receptors for Lycanthropy and has been equally as dangerous as her adoptive father, Remus Lupin. As Lycanthropy is only spread through a bite, we believe that her medical emergency involved receiving a bite from Lupin._

_Fellow students have commented on her absence throughout the school year and her appearance around full moons. Emelyn has been known to be violent towards other students…_

**2 July, 1994**

> Dear Miss Nickels,
> 
> Upon further research into your case, we have discovered that you are a carrier of the Lycanthropy disease. We are writing to inform you that upon your seventeenth birthday, you are required to register your name and information with the Werewolf Registry.
> 
> Failure to do so will result in legal action.
> 
> Yours sincerely,
> 
> Hilliard Robbie  
>  Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures  
>  Beast Division  
>  Ministry of Magic

**2 July, 1994**

> Emma,
> 
> I know we haven't written to each other over the summer before, but I thought you should know that my aunt is taking your case. Professor Lupin is the best teacher we have ever had, and I'm sure that you're both gutted. I made sure to talk to her, so she knows the situation. She might write to you at some point, so be on the lookout for that.
> 
> My aunt is fair, and she'll make sure that everything works out. I don't know how long it'll take to get everything figured out, but she'll do her best.
> 
> She doesn't like seeing families separated for any reason. She disagrees with the current werewolf legislation, and she feels like the Ministry is making a stretch. She's brilliant, I promise. Professor Lupin did nothing wrong. It was just an unfortunate series of events. Any of the people who really paid attention know who he really is. Neither of you are alone.
> 
> A few of us are getting together over the summer. If you'd like, you can come to spend a few nights with us. Write back and let me know.
> 
> \- Susan

**2 July, 1994**

> Hey Emma,
> 
> Ginny's been round Luna's, and Luna said that you haven't written to her. I hoped that if you didn't write back to me, you would have written to her. It sounds like you haven't written to anyone at all. Ron mentioned that Hermione hasn't heard from you either.
> 
> Will you please write to one of us so that we know you're all right?
> 
> X – George

**2 July, 1994**

> Daddy,
> 
> I had a dream about the Grindylow the other night. It was actually a bit funny. I still can't believe that you kept the Grindylow for so long. It was a terrible, terrible pet.
> 
> We were out by that funny little pond that we found near the house last summer. Do you remember? You made fun of me because I decided to jump into it and stepped on that funny bit of grass, which scared me. Pretty sure you teased me about it for days and took far too much joy in tickling my feet. I'm still cross over that, I hope you know.
> 
> Anyway, there was what seemed to be a hundred Grindylow in the pond! I suppose that's an exaggeration, though. Only five could reasonably fit in that pond, but it felt like there were a hundred, and they were all making those weird faces. You know how much I hate the ugly little faces they make. They're like ugly squashed potatoes – like gnomes. Not too sure what actually happened because something woke me up.
> 
> Can Grindylows even live in something that small? I still think that some sort of creature made that pond because it was so little, but what do you think? Do you still think it made itself over time? Maybe you're right. It was rather small.
> 
> Will you please write back to me?
> 
> I love you,  
>  Emma

**2 July, 1994**

> Hey Harry,
> 
> I know this seems weird because I've never written to you before. I sent this both Muggle and obviously by owl, so let me know what works for you. I wasn't sure which would be easier since I know your aunt and uncle are miserable. I apologize in advance if you somehow get in trouble for receiving Muggle post, so I hope that the return address seemed official. I hoped that if I made it seem like some sort of business, it would be all right. Perks of having a grandfather at the Ministry, I suppose. Hasn't been much help lately, though.
> 
> Summer's been weird already, and I guess I feel a little like you this year – going somewhere you don't really want to go. Do you get the Prophet? I don't know if you do. If not, I'll update you on what's been going on.
> 
> It would've been strange, all of us together, but I think it would've been all right. Although, bit rough for me – three Gryffindors and a Hufflepuff? Bit outnumbered here…especially since I would be the only girl, as well. Oh, that sounds miserable. Didn't even think about it until I wrote it just now. That's a bit scary.
> 
> When this mess is all sorted out, I promise that you're going to love Padfoot. You're going to love Dad, too. Dad's a lot quieter than Padfoot, so whenever you just want someone mellow, you go to Dad. I think Padfoot will be the fun parent, not that Dad isn't fun, but you know how he is.
> 
> I can't remember if Padfoot said he had a place for us all to go for the life of me. Do you think that we'll all go looking for a house together? Where do you think we should live? I thought about living somewhere near the ocean, but I enjoy living near the woods. It's very quiet where I actually live, not where I am now.
> 
> Oh, I know! What if we found someplace out by a lake with woods so that Dad and Padfoot could run around? I think they would enjoy that.
> 
> I think when we're all together, it's going to be fun. I hope you can't wait because I can't.
> 
> Love,  
>  Emma

**☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾**

**3 July, 1994**

> Emma,
> 
> I'm so sorry about what's happened. I've been trying to find the time to get out to see you, but things are difficult. I don't know if you've been reading the Prophet or not, but things aren't good. Knowing you, I'm sure you've gone through every possible article written. I know that you're scared, but you don't need to worry. I'm still all right, for right now. Your dad's been out for a few days. He's a bit shaken up but trust me – he's gone through worse. He'll recover like he always does, and Dr. Wheeler's been by because I asked. We're not leaving him alone.
> 
> The Ministry won't do anything serious because it is his first offense, but the laws are getting tighter. He was hit with the fine already, but that was taken care of. We can't change what already existed, but we can work around what comes next.
> 
> Your dad's beyond pissed that I paid his fines for him. He's been a right grump over it, but that's been his default state lately. Snuffles and I have been trying our best to keep him calm, but he misses you fiercely. I know that you've been trying to write to him, but he can't respond just yet as the Ministry's been dogging him. He's trying to do what he thinks is right to keep you safe and make sure that you can come home. Poor Beaky's had to fly back and forth to my place so many times just to keep things above water. Snuffles doesn't seem to mind, though.
> 
> Don't you dare for one minute think that your father's not writing to you because he doesn't love you. Your father will go to the ends of the Earth and back just for you, and you know that. We're just trying to make sure that he plays by their rules for the time being. Nothing is keeping you two apart by law, but the Ministry is currently trying to find any and all loopholes. We're trying to do the same and not give them a reason to find the separation valid.
> 
> The only thing that we can rely on right now is your paternity. I know that's currently a problem in itself. Your Grandpa wrote and mentioned that you received a letter informing you that you have to register. They can't force you to join the Werewolf Registry when you're not an actual werewolf. You don't have the same infectivity, and you don't transform – you just get sick every month. That doesn't make you dangerous, and the entire thing is ridiculous. I don't know who released your medical information to Skeeter, but I'm trying to make sure that the right person gets ahold of it. They haven't caught up to me yet, but it's only a matter of time. I'm not letting someone untrustworthy handle your care if you need to be in the hospital.
> 
> We've all been trying to figure out how to somehow get Snuffles added to your current paperwork, but it's all a bit shaky. Snuffles said that paperwork had been filled out years ago confirming your mum's surrogacy, but of course, we don't have it. Don't you dare think of trying to get it yourself. I see where you get your impulsiveness from now, and we don't need you getting hurt. Greyback will be more willing to play nice with you if you run into him to get you on his side. Do not fall for it.
> 
> Ignore the shit that Skeeter's been writing in the Prophet. She's known for over-sensationalizing everything to get people to buy the paper. Skeeter thrives on writing absolute nonsense. Sadly, it works. People, magical or Muggle, are obsessed with gossip, and unfortunately, you and your father are currently headline news.
> 
> I don't know what your grandfather has told you, but it doesn't sound like you've talked to him much. I'm not telling you to act like nothing is wrong, but it's been over a week.
> 
> Let him in.
> 
> He worries about you, too, you know. I understand that the situation isn't ideal, but don't let this be your downfall when you've come so far. You are an incredibly strong and powerful witch with big, gigantic, extraordinary, and brilliant dreams. You are going to change things for so many people in the future, Emma. Don't forget what you're fighting for. Someday, there will never be another case like yours because you're the one who changed that.
> 
> You are always going to be Emma Hope Lupin – no matter what the paperwork says. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Fuck what anyone else thinks. You are your father's daughter, and absolutely nothing will take that away from you.
> 
> I'm fine. Your dad is fine. Snuffles is fine.
> 
> Keep yourself safe – that's all any of us are asking for. Everything is going to work out, kid. I promise.
> 
> Love,  
>  Elle
> 
> P.S. I sent over a balm to help with the scratch on your face. If I have to hear your father whinge about it one more time, I swear…You only need a small amount, twice a day. It'll help with any residual burning you might have, and it'll reduce the redness. It'll never go away, unfortunately, but it won't be as harsh.

**☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾**

**4 July, 1994**

> Hey Emma,
> 
> Your address on the Muggle post was brilliant. I received both letters but receiving a bit of regular mail was nice. I think I might save the envelope just because it's funny. You can keep owling me and use Hedwig if you'd like. She knows to come straight to my window.
> 
> I get the Prophet sometimes, but Hermione and Ron have kept me up to date. Have you really not written to anyone yet? Have you heard from Padfoot?
> 
> I can't believe what they're doing to you. After how Fudge was when we tried to tell him what happened, maybe I can. Do you think they'll do anything to him? They won't, will they? Just because he's got a bit of a problem, it doesn't make Professor Lupin a bad person.
> 
> I don't recall if Padfoot ever said he had a place to live. What's your home like? It has woods? I think I'd like that. Maybe Professor Lupin and Padfoot could figure out how to make it bigger. The Weasley's did it at the Burrow, so I don't see why they couldn't figure it out. Maybe we can make a lake, too! Do you have a big backyard? I think they would probably like it.
> 
> Things have been all right here. I hate being at the Dursleys, but they mostly leave me alone now. I spend as much time away as I can. What do you usually do when you're home? I don't do much here. I mostly try to keep out of the way to avoid my cousin Dudley.
> 
> Write back soon,  
>  Harry

**4 July, 1994**

> Hey Harry,
> 
> I know why you were put in Gryffindor. Anyone who has to deal with any of this has to be brave. I know a lot of people chalk it up to you being "The Boy Who Lived," but they don't get it. I'm sorry if I've ever been an absolute arse around you because of it. I promise I won't ever do it again.
> 
> I'm glad you thought the address was funny. No, I haven't written to anyone. No, I haven't heard from Padfoot. I just don't want to write to anyone right now because they're not going to understand. I know they're trying to be helpful, but I'm scared. We had such big plans for this summer, and this hurts both of us. No one's going to understand that.
> 
> I don't know what they're going to do with Dad. Elle – my Healer – seems to think that things will be all right. I can't figure out what my Grandfather thinks, but then again, I try to avoid him because he makes things worse.
> 
> There're woods on all three sides of the house and a big field across the way. We're a bit out of the way, but there's a town nearbyish. Dad and I usually walk out there for takeaway. It's a bit of a walk, but it's nice to get outside. We have two bedrooms and a single bathroom. There's a study that perhaps could be turned into a bedroom, though. Maybe it could work for one of us. I'll let you pick which room you want, too! I don't mind. My room and the study is around the same size, so space isn't a big deal. The backyard is pretty big! I think we could make our own little lake. That would be fun.
> 
> What do I do when I'm at home? Read, mostly. It's so relaxing. Sometimes I'll throw the television on, or I'll play the wireless. Really depends on my mood.
> 
> Do you know about Nintendo? Justin was telling me about it because he has one. We didn't have anything like that at the children's home, and I'm wondering if Dad and Padfoot could figure out how to make it work. Maybe we can play videogames!
> 
> I hope avoiding your cousin's been going all right,
> 
> Love,  
>  Emma

**☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾**

**5 July, 1994**

> Emma,
> 
> Please write to someone. We're worried.  
>  – George

**5 July, 1994**

> Daddy,
> 
> I went out in the garden today. Thought I would try to go gnoming while Grandpa was at work. I couldn't stay out there long. All I could do was keep thinking about how we used to have our competitions to see who could fling a gnome the furthest.
> 
> Who do you think would win? I might give you a run for your money. I bet a Galleon I could beat you at flinging gnomes: a Galleon and two handfuls of Fry's chocolate – not Hogsmeade's chocolate. I want something Muggle.
> 
> Miss you lots.
> 
> Love, your daughter,  
>  Emma

**☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾**

**6 July, 1994**

> Sweetheart,
> 
> I want nothing more in this world than for you to be right here where you belong.
> 
> I know you don't understand, and I don't expect you to, but please wait for me to contact you again. I'm fine.
> 
> I love you more than anything, my beautiful girl – please remember that.
> 
> E.E. Cummings said it best – you are my sun, my moon, and all of my stars.
> 
> I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.
> 
> Love,  
>  Daddy

**☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾**

Emma stared at the letter in her hand, feeling completely numb. Her tears had stopped days ago, and she didn't think that she had any left to shed. She wasn't entirely sure what time it was, the sky only beginning to grow dark.

There was a soft knock at the door, and she turned her head to look but didn't get up from her bed. She was tired of seeing Lyall, and she carefully folded up her father's letter, tucking it under her pillow. Emma buried herself in her nest of blankets, hiding from the dwindling light and her grandfather, who had just opened the door. She closed her eyes, feigning sleep. Emma didn't think he ever believed her anymore.

"Emma?" Lyall spoke softly into the deceptively calm quiet. "I brought you dinner." Emma listened to the sound of ceramic touching her wood side table and the sliding of glass cup as it was set down. There was a slight dip in her mattress as Lyall leaned over to find the only spot on her head he could kiss. He waited for a few minutes to see if Emma would get up, sighed, and gently closed the door.

When Emma was sure that Lyall had made his way back downstairs, she finally sat up. A part of her felt bad about how she was acting, but a bigger part of her didn't care. Soleil wound up being enough company for her for the moment.

She looked over at what Lyall brought and her face twisted in disgust. Her father would have known to make a regular steak pie and not a steak and kidney pie. Her father certainly would have known to not add mushy peas that covered half of the chips on her plate. Remus would have made jokes about how she was decidedly not English at all and came from an entirely different country. Emma would have thrown a chip at him and proceeded to take half of his mashed potatoes, his side of choice, to dip her chips into. She would then proceed to pick a completely different place to live. Remus would most likely lean over to snatch a chip or two from her plate with a cheeky grin as she would cry out in indignation. Their conversation would most likely involve the pros and cons of wherever location she chose, whether it be somewhere as the coast of America or even Middle-Earth. It would be fun. This was decidedly not fun at all.

With a frustrated huff, Emma picked out the few salvageable chips she could find and peeled off the bits of pastry she deemed all right. She could desperately go for a bacon butty, but then she frowned, realizing a bacon butty wouldn't be good. It needed whatever bread Remus decided to make because he made the best bread she had ever had. That further led her into the vicious cyclical cycle of everything she should be doing right that very minute back in Upper Helmsley.

The golden sheen of the setting sun lit up her messy floor, casting an almost pretty glow to the rubbish that covered nearly every square inch. Her entire room was a mess. There were piles of paper littering the floor, old Daily Prophets with ripped out articles, an assortment of books that she only dared to find in the dead of night. Parchment was crumpled everywhere, discarded letters from the people who wrote to her, discarded responses she tried to make but gave up on. She had knocked over an ink bottle at some point, refusing to turn the light on, spilling ink all over the carpet.

The few clothes she had laid discarded over by her closet. It had been an unfortunate discovery that none of the clothes she had at her grandfather's actually fit. At some point during the year, she had gotten hips, and suddenly Remus's seemingly idle comments on going clothes shopping made sense. It appeared he had been altering her jeans and trousers for her, just to stretch out their use. As grateful as she was, it didn't help her situation in the least. With everything going on, Emma wasn't allowed any access to her things. It was almost like she was effectively tossed out of her own home, and she resented it.

Two pairs of jeans, both very worn, a single pair of trousers that matched nothing, two shirts that actually fit, and a single pair of pajamas was not going to get her far. Emma didn't even want to get started on the knickers she had. Every time she changed, she silently cursed the fact that Persephone insisted she get so many skimpy numbers the previous summer. She had been thrilled at getting such fancy lingerie, feeling incredibly grown-up, but now they were nuisances. Emma cursed herself for not thinking to pack a single pair of comfortable knickers. She wouldn't ever make that mistake twice.

Emma sighed, reaching into her nightstand to go through the letters she had kept and hadn't thrown on the floor. She set them aside, unfolding the topmost one.

 _Think twice about who you trust_.

Emma had not gotten any closer to figuring out what exactly Fenrir's message meant. She had scrawled out several annoyed letters to the werewolf, but they lay amongst the heap of crumpled parchment. What even would she say? What purpose would it serve for her to even write to him other than to just tell him this was his fault?

With a groan, Emma rubbed her hands over her forehead, trying to dull the pounding that was beginning to form. She couldn't even actually blame Fenrir for what happened. It was her fault. Remus told her it wasn't, but it was absolutely and one-hundred-percent her fault no matter how she looked at it. No matter how many times she replayed the night at the Shrieking Shack, it all came down to her not being where she needed to be. They should have used the Time-Turner to go even further back in time.

She shoved the heels of her palms into her eye sockets until she saw different colors behind her eyes. When she pulled her hands away, she stared at Fenrir's neat handwriting and shoved his note aside. She picked up Elara's letter next. Elara had said Fenrir would be willing to work with her so he could get on her good side. Emma didn't think that she would ever let that happen.

Her thoughts slowly fluttered to what Persephone had told her. She hadn't gotten any closer to solving the cryptic messages of her ex-best friend. Persephone told her that Fenrir had plans to get her; he would give small gifts freely, but something big would require a deal. To make it worse, Fenrir supposedly had something involving her memories. Was Persephone even telling her the truth? Emma picked up Fenrir's note again. Was _that_ what he was trying to tell her?

None of it made sense, and she never even got to tell Remus anything that Persephone had said. The thought of what transpired well before the Shack had completely left her mind. She didn't have all of Remus's logical thoughts or all of Sirius's incredibly harebrained ideas. As similar as she was to both men, Emma felt she wasn't like them at all.

All Emma had to work with was the Ministry had stripped her of her entire identity, falsely labeled her as a werewolf, and she wasn't allowed to be with her father. Every time she thought about it, the angrier she became. If she was a werewolf in the eyes of the Ministry, what purpose did it serve to keep her away from her father, who was an actual werewolf? Lyall wasn't doing a good job of getting explanations from anyone.

Emma looked up as there was a tapping at her window. She frowned at the unfamiliar owl and got up to let it in. Rather than staying, the owl dropped the letter held in its beak and flew right out. Was it a letter from Sirius? She didn't think it was from Remus as he had just sent his letter back with Aurora. Still, she felt a hopeful bubble in her chest. Maybe he was writing to tell her he was coming to get her and needed to use a different owl so the Ministry didn't know.

Curious and excited, Emma unfolded the letter that only contained nine words.

_Clyne Gardens. You can find me there at dusk._

Her excitement immediately deflated. Emma snatched up her note from Fenrir to compare the writing and scoffed. She wasn't sure how much worse things could get. Fenrir was a lot closer than she thought he would be, and he was clearly a man of very few words. The gardens weren't very far from her grandfather's house at all.

She tossed Fenrir's newest communication into the pile of letters littering the floor and climbed back into bed. Maybe someday she would wake up from this nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've tried to do this for the other three books, but I've been SO SLOW (and I got lost somewhere at the beginning of Daughter of the Moon), but if you want a ✨cinematic experience✨ I've started a playlist for this one! I'm hoping for a song per chapter, but we'll see~
> 
>   
> **come find me on:**  
> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/mymoonyandstars)  
> [facebook](https://www.facebook.com/mymoonyandstars)  
> [the moonlit stars discord](https://discord.gg/DtrKMhaTHR)
> 
> [spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/r6xi6203vwza01epk6askwk15?si=t4wwYBERRymTJvw09FJG3Q)  
> 


	2. Papa Padfoot to the Rescue

Emma awoke with a gasping breath, almost as if she had come up from being underwater for far too long. She stared up at her darkened ceiling, trying to make sense of where she was like she had for the past week and a half. With a frown, she realized she was once again still at her grandfather's in Wales. She was 312.5 miles away and five and a half hours by car from Upper Helmsley. It was a three and a half-day walk if she moved fast and didn't take breaks. Somewhere amongst the parchment littering her floor, there were papers with complicated math she hadn't done since primary school.

She turned her head towards her nightstand, trying to make out the face of her clock in the waning moonlight. Emma took a deep breath, running her hands over her face in aggravation. It was only two in the morning, but something had pulled her from her miserable slumber.

An audible screech made her jump and set her heart racing. It was the noise that had woken her up. What could make such an awful sound? Emma pulled herself out of bed and walked slowly to her window to look into the backyard. Was there something there? She was almost afraid to look, but she forced herself to push aside her curtain to look outside.

Emma didn't consider that 312.5 miles could be covered in four hours by a hippogriff.

Her heart was suddenly set to burst out of her chest in excitement as she ran from her room and down the stairs. She could care less about her dressing gown or slippers. All she cared about was getting downstairs to find the current owner of the hippogriff currently in the backyard.

She spotted the faint light coming from the kitchen as she made it to the ground floor landing. The sound of voices traveled from the kitchen, and she froze, listening carefully for the voice she wanted desperately to hear. Emma sighed sadly when she only recognized two voices and not three, but at least one was very welcome.

Emma bolted across the sitting room to the kitchen and met Sirius's gaze as he stood near the door.

"I think you would put a herd of Erumpent to shame."

Emma laughed, practically tackling Sirius into a tight hug. He looked much better than when she had seen him last, finally cleaned up and wearing the all too familiar clothes of her father. His hair was shorter, cut to around his chin, and surprisingly curly, his face finally shaved and smooth. He looked like an entirely different man, still skinny, but color had finally made its way into his cheeks. She couldn't stop herself from touching Sirius's face, running her hands over his light stubble.

"I didn't know you had a face underneath all that hair," Emma said.

"Yes, well that makes two of us," Sirius's said, running a hand along his jaw. "Feels so much better. Might go clean-shaven for a while, but we'll see."

"Is it safe for you to be here?"

"They spotted me back up by Scotland. They won't think to come down this way for a while," Sirius said, pulling Emma back into his arms at the first sign of tears.

"And Daddy?"

"He's fine," Sirius said, kissing the top of Emma's head and hugging her tighter. "That was from Moony, by the way," he added, making Emma make an ugly snort through her tears. He kissed the top of her head again. "And that one's from me."

"W-what are you doing here?" she managed to squeak out, burying her face in the jumper Sirius wore just to inhale the familiar scent.

"Coming to see you, of course."

"Y-you sh-should be with Daddy. N-not with me."

Sirius squeezed her impossibly tighter. "Sunshine, I am right where I need to be. Elle's with him right now. He'll be all right without me for a few days. Moony's strong – he always has been."

"He has to be if he has to deal with us two," Emma said with a watery giggle. She leaned back slightly, peering up at Sirius. "I want to go home…"

"I know," Sirius said gently. "We want you back home where you belong. Unfortunately, my dear, you are not an Animagus, and we can't sneak you back there."

"I can't become an Animagus anyway," Emma grumbled.

"And it's a good thing, too," Lyall said quietly. "I don't even want to know what trouble you would get into."

Emma grimaced as she slowly let go of Sirius. She took a deep breath, turning to her grandfather with a slight smile. "No more than I usually get into, I'm sure," she said.

"Considering you've sent the gnomes all running from the garden, I reckon that's a strong possibility."

An awkward silence fell in the kitchen, and Emma started to become self-conscious of how she looked. Her hair had to be an absolute mess from not touching it days, and she admittedly hadn't taken a shower in a few days. To make matters worse, her stomach decided it would be an appropriate time to growl loudly.

"Did you eat?" Lyall questioned, his forehead wrinkling as his brows knit together.

Emma looked up at Lyall guiltily and shook her head. "No," she replied, her face flushing.

"Why not?" Sirius asked, folding his arms and giving Emma a surprisingly stern look. Emma had a funny feeling that Remus had already briefed Sirius that she didn't eat much when she was stressed.

"I, uhm…"

"I made steak and kidney pie," Lyall said to Sirius.

Sirius's face softened, understanding immediately. Emma had no doubt that Remus had to have given Sirius a crash course in important information about her. "She won't eat it if there are kidneys," Sirius explained to Lyall. "She'll only have a regular steak pie. You didn't give her mushy peas, did you?"

"Oh, Merlin," Lyall breathed out, running a hand over his face. "Cariad, I'm so sorry. I completely forgot."

"It's all right," Emma said with a small shrug.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to be a bother," Emma answered quietly, staring down at her toes as she brushed them across the tile floor.

"Well, guess I'm going to owe Remus a Galleon for that one," Sirius sighed, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a thick roll of paper. He unrolled the papers dramatically and cleared his throat. "Item one in knowing our daughter – she doesn't tell anyone when something is wrong. Item two, she doesn't eat when she's stressed –" a bright glimmer reached Sirius's eyes as he glanced up at Emma "– and item three, anything can be made better with chocolate."

Emma looked at Sirius curiously as he bent down to pick up a paper bag sitting behind his foot and held it out to her. "What's this?" Emma asked, staring blankly at the bag.

"Gifts from Moony," Sirius shrugged. "Open it."

With a mix of excitement and confusion, Emma opened the bag and swore she would weep from sheer happiness. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted out of the bag, and she was fully prepared to shove her face into the bag to inhale the smell. She peered into the bag, further curious of its contents, and sighed seeing several bars of chocolate. Three bars of Fry's Raspberry Creams because – "Remus took the fourth," Sirius said with a wink. "Keep going; there's more."

Emma pulled the chocolate out, set it aside, and started salivating as she pulled the fresh loaf of bread out of the bag. Her excitement grew when she saw that there were rolls as well, and even better – "How did he know I was desperately craving a bacon butty?" Emma asked Sirius in sheer disbelief. She set the bag down to pull out the gratuitous bacon-filled sandwich with a feigned sob. Emma wasn't sure whether she should eat it or hug it out of happiness.

"Item number four – when Emma decides she doesn't want to eat, you can count on her to never pass up a bacon butty," Sirius said with a smile. He flipped through the pages in his hand with a sigh before rolling them back up to stick in his back pocket. "Well, don't just stare at it. I'm not too sure how much longer the warming charm will hold."

"What even is that you have?" Emma asked, taking a bite of the sandwich with a happy wiggle. "Oh, Merlin, I missed this. Hogwarts food is all right, but Dad's sandwiches are special."

"I suppose I'll be picking up bacon before coming home from work tomorrow," Lyall sighed, clasping Sirius's shoulder. "I should head off to bed. Early shift. You're staying for a few days, Sirius?"

"For as long as I can, if that's all right. Buckbeak shouldn't be any trouble," Sirius said, winking at Emma as her face lit up.

"Stay however long you want. Just make sure the doors are locked tight," Lyall said, bending down to kiss the top of Emma's head. "Nos da cariad."

"Nos da," Emma murmured, worrying her lip between her teeth as she watched Lyall leave. She pulled the closest chair out at the table and sat down heavily, staring miserably at the sandwich in her hand. "I've been terrible to him."

"Emma, he understands," Sirius said, sitting down across from her. "We all do."

"But it doesn't mean I should be…" Emma took another bite of sandwich and chewed it forcefully. "I've been a complete brat."

"You're allowed to be a brat, but none of us think that you are," Sirius said, leaning forward towards Emma. "Honestly, we were all worried that your reaction was, er, going to be more extreme than it is."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, your track record hasn't been the best, Pumpkin," Sirius said slowly.

Emma froze mid-chew and swallowed. "Did you just come here to make sure I wasn't about to –"

"No! No, I'm not here because – oh, bloody hell, I'm not good at this," Sirius groaned, running his hands over his face. "I didn't come here because we thought you were going to try and off yourself again."

"But you all talked about it, didn't you?" Emma asked with a frown.

"Well…"

"I already said I wouldn't do that again," Emma huffed, angrily stuffing more sandwich in her mouth. "The fact…that you lot…would even think…that I would do that…is offensive," Emma said between chews. She swallowed her bite of sandwich, shooting Sirius a glare. "I promised Dad I wouldn't do that again. Or hurt myself again for that matter."

"We know," Sirius said quickly. "I swear, we know. We were worried because you haven't been writing to anyone. Er, that Hermione girl has sent at least five letters to Remus worried that no one's heard from you. Got a collective letter from the Weasleys just this morning. That's not including the two from Augusta since you haven't written to Neville either. From what we've heard from your grandfather, you haven't really left your room."

"So you all panicked?" Emma asked, arching an eyebrow in question.

"To put it simply, yes," Sirius said, reaching back to pull out the rolled papers from his pocket. "Which is precisely why Remus has sent me with practically an entire textbook on how to take care of you. Thought your grandfather could use it, too. Apparently, we've both got to go to school and learn how to take care of you correctly."

"He did not," Emma said in alarm as she snatched the papers from Sirius's hand to look at them. She couldn't believe that Remus would ever do such a thing, but as she flipped through the pages, her heart broke a little bit. "Oh, bloody hell. I didn't know he paid this much attention to me. If it wasn't so endearing, it would be a bit scary."

"Well, that's Remus for you," Sirius said, scratching his head. "So far it's been pretty accurate."

"He's mental."

"He adores you," Sirius corrected. "Honestly, I think writing all of this was what helped keep him sane the moment he got home. This and baking. It's smelled wonderful in the house, honestly, but he won't stop. I don't think I've ever seen him so lost before."

"He's probably thinking about how things were the last time," Emma replied quietly as she finished her sandwich. "I'm sure it feels the same. Maybe worse because he knows exactly where I am."

Sirius only looked up at Emma sadly. "That was my fault. If I had just –"

"It wasn't your fault," Emma said earnestly. She groaned, leaning back into the chair. "I hate when I open my mouth and hear Dad."

"Because he would be telling you the exact same thing?"

"I'm sure we would've had a row or two over it by now."

"Or he would just sit all grumpy in his chair and stare at you until he guilted you into deciding he was right."

A small smile crossed Emma's face, knowing precisely what Sirius was talking about. It was such a level and steady, unyielding stare. If you were lucky, you would get the slight quirk of his brow, and the one corner of his lips would lift. It was impossible to tell whether it was from amusement or annoyance. It was terrifying that a single look from Remus could equate to several different emotions. Either way, it was best not to test him and find out.

"What's with the look?" Sirius suddenly asked.

"What do you mean?" Emma asked in confusion.

"This," Sirius said, gesturing at Emma. "Your hair looks like how mine did."

"Oh," Emma said, her cheeks heating up. "I uhm…wweeellll, I guess I haven't really been taking care of myself," she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. "I was, in the beginning, but then I realized absolutely nothing I have here fits. These are the only pajamas I have, and I came to the conclusion that if I don't change out of them, then they're not…dirty."

Sirius nodded and took a deep breath. "Well, I can't say much, considering I wore the same thing for a year straight," Sirius sighed. "But that's also why I've got Remus's jumper – got another one underneath this one, actually. Couldn't bring you anything obvious, but he said you'll wear his jumpers to bed?"

"Oh, he's wonderful," Emma said appreciatively. "They're so big they're like a nightie on me." Emma shot up quickly, motioning for Sirius to hand the jumpers to her. "I am taking a shower. I bloody need one."

"Oh, good," Sirius said with a lopsided grin as he pulled off the top jumper. "You said it, so I didn't have to."

Emma gave Sirius a soft punch in his arm with a smile, pulling the jumper up to her nose to smell it. It smelled just like home and the crisp night air. "You're terrible," Emma said, "but I love you."

Even with conditioning her hair several times, Emma's hair was a tangle of knots. She sat on the floor in front of Sirius so that he could try and brush the knots out. Emma gnawed on her lip as she took in the mess in her room and was grateful that Sirius wasn't saying a word about it. She didn't even think of taking a minute to clean up even a little bit, but then again, she wasn't the neatest anyway. Her room back home was always in some form of disarray until Remus would get too bothered that he couldn't cross the floor without stepping on something. Remus would insist she clean but get annoyed and just give her room a quick sweep of his wand. In no time at all, her things would be back where they belonged.

"Your hair is so bloody long," Sirius commented as he delicately combed through a particularly big knot. "I like having long hair, but I certainly couldn't deal with it this long again."

Emma hadn't thought about how much her hair had grown. She couldn't remember the last time she had it cut, and it sat just below her shoulder blades. Emma had to admit that it was much longer than she had been used to in a few years.

"It was much longer when Dad took me home," Emma commented. "Down to my lower back."

"Merlin, it was that long? How did you manage?"

"I always wore it up. I was terrified of letting…" she trailed off for a moment, clearing her throat. "Uhm, Persephone cut my hair first year," Emma said, motioning to the spot just over her shoulder. "Around here. Gave me that fringe that I kept until last year. It was a much more manageable length."

"The fringe was cute," Sirius said. "You had one when you were small."

"I know," Emma said. "It was at least adorable then. I think I grew out of it, though. I don't think it looked right anymore."

Sirius stopped brushing Emma's hair for a moment to lean over her shoulder. "Well, I think you look beautiful no matter how you have your hair," he said, kissing the spot near her temple.

Emma smiled at Sirius and laid her head against his knee. "Do you think you could cut my hair for me tomorrow?"

"It is tomorrow," Sirius said with a slight air of glee.

"Sirius!"

"Yes, I am Sirius."

"Do I even want to know how often you use that joke?" Emma groaned.

"Probably far more often than I should, actually. Can't help it – it's too perfect. Your father used to give me a right bollocking over it when we were in school. He absolutely bloody hated it."

"I can see that," Emma giggled. "Sirius, how long are you really going to stay? I know you can't stay here forever."

Sirius continued to comb through Emma's hair quietly. "A few days at least," he said after a while. "I have to keep moving so that they don't know where I am. I might head out of the country for a bit. Somewhere I don't have to hide, but I won't stay long. A week at most."

"Where do you plan on going?"

"Hmm, probably somewhere warm," Sirius said thoughtfully. "Just to get out of the cold. I think I'm permanently frozen right to my bones."

"Bet Dad was nice to sleep next to then. He's like a furnace."

"He's very, very warm."

"I'm sure that's at least nicer without me there," Emma sighed. "I'm sorry that I ruined all of those nights you were with us at Hogwarts."

"Ruined them? You didn't ruin a thing. Did he not tell you that we all used to climb into each other's beds in school?"

"Well, yes, but that was different. You were all mates, and you weren't dealing with an anxious, well, me."

"Emma, some of my favorite moments when you smaller was when the three of us would all nap together," Sirius said, a fondness to his voice. "If Remus wasn't lying on the couch, he would lie on the floor with you. You would be sleeping on your little blanket, Remus would lay on his side next to you and just watch you sleep. I would lay down on the other side of you, and it was like you were in a protective little bubble between us. A part of you always seemed to know that we were all together. You would turn yourself to snuggle up against Remus and whine until I got closer, and we would fall asleep like that. Just the three of us on the floor, just out in the living room here, actually."

"Really?"

"Really. Remus used to love just running his finger up and down your nose. Thought it was the cutest little thing in the world."

"My _nose_?"

"It was rather cute," Sirius admitted. "Just like a little button. Still cute now."

Emma touched her nose, scrunching up her face. "It's not cute," she said, turning her head to look at Sirius over her shoulder.

"It is absolutely adorable," Sirius said, running his finger down the bridge of her nose with a smile. "And I believe your hair is finally tangle free."

Emma ran her hands through her hair with a content sigh. "Thank you," she said. "But will you cut it for me tomorrow?"

"You still want me to cut it after I put in all that work?"

"Please?"

"I suppose," Sirius said with a dramatic sigh. "Now, let's get you into bed. I think I know how to tuck you in, at least."

"You don't have to," Emma said quickly.

"I am here, and I would like to," Sirius said gently. "I imagine that you'll sleep much better if you have some of your bedtime routine."

Even though everyone told her it was okay to like being tucked in, Emma felt embarrassed by it. The fact that Sirius was so willing to take over the job made her heart hurt. It only made her miss being home even more.

"I know it won't be the same way as Remus does it, but maybe we can come up with our own little routine," Sirius said, stroking Emma's hair. "If you don't want me to, that's fine. I just want you to be happy. We all do."

Emma considered it for a moment and nodded. "I think I would like that," she whispered.

Sirius trying to figure out Emma's bedtime routine was surprisingly fun. He struggled through it, torn between just talking to her and telling her a story, and wound up doing a mixture of the two. She wound up in a fit of giggles that forced Sirius to transform into Padfoot just so he could try to settle her down. It worked wonders. For the first time in nearly two weeks, Emma fell asleep quickly, happily curled around the dog.

Waking up, however, was disorienting as always. Every time she opened her eyes, Emma expected to find herself in her real room back home and not at her grandfather's. This time she expected to at least have a sleeping dog next to her.

Emma sat up, rubbing her eyes to find Sirius, who was absolutely not Padfoot, sitting at the end of her bed. He held something in his hands, and Emma's stomach sank when she realized what it was.

"You looked through my letters?" Emma squeaked out. She took a look around in a panic and realized that her room was far cleaner than it was before. It was possibly cleaner than when she even arrived, having not touched the room since Christmas. Either Sirius had let her sleep in, or he couldn't sleep; she couldn't figure out which option was most likely.

"No," Sirius said, shaking his head, "I didn't until I saw these. And realized that you had tried to respond. Are these from Greyback?"

Emma studied Sirius closely, eyes narrowed, not quite sure if whether she should believe him. She sighed, shoulders slumping forward, and she nodded.

"When?" Sirius asked sharply.

"The first one was the night I got home. At King's Cross."

"He was in King's Cross?"

"He didn't stay. I literally walked into him while I was looking for Dad. Gave me that first note and left. More like he shoved it in my hand, really."

"And the second?"

"Last night," Emma replied after a beat.

Sirius's eyes grew wide. "Last night?" he asked, his tone urgent. "You didn't go, did you?"

"No. I went right to bed after actually. It's –"

"Right up the road. I know." Sirius frowned, looking down at the notes. "You never told Lyall, did you?"

"No," Emma said, shaking her head. "I didn't think Greyback would show up out of nowhere. I thought it was going to be his cryptic message, and that was it."

"This is a problem," Sirius muttered. "He doesn't care if he's seen."

"Why is that a problem if it's public –"

"It's so he can make a statement. I think you're the message."

Emma swallowed hard, running her hands through her hair. "Well, that's one way to wake up, I guess," Emma said, hugging herself tightly.

"We don't want you to be in the dark about what is going on," Sirius said quietly, guilt crossing his face. "We're worried that Greyback is going to take advantage of the situation. He'll take advantage of you being vulnerable. I certainly don't like that he's so close."

"I'm not vulnerable," Emma huffed.

"All right," Sirius said, holding his hands up in surrender. "You're not vulnerable mentally, but you are vulnerable physically. You don't even have a wand to protect yourself with. That doesn't even factor in the fact that you're very petite, Emma. You know how strong Remus is…you're not going to have any chance around Greyback."

A slight pout crossed Emma's face, and she flopped back down onto her mattress. "I hate Jude," she muttered.

"Don't we all?" Sirius said with a bitter, mirthless chuckle. "Come on, get up, and let's have breakfast."

It should have been evident to Emma that Sirius would be just as terrible at cooking as she was. Twelve years in Azkaban had left Sirius entirely out of practice cooking, and Emma only succeeded in making messes. After completely covering the counters in every possible food they tried to make, they settled on toast and jam. At least that they could handle with ease.

"Grandpa's going to kill us," Emma said when she looked around at the mess they had created. Broken eggshells littered the counter, the frying pan held very burnt and blackened eggs. Milk had someone managed to find its way on the floor, and neither of them knew who was responsible for that mess. Buckbeak made a loud squawk from outside while Sirius was adding jam to his toast, and he had flung jam onto the wall. Emma, startled by both Buckbeak and Sirius, had dropped her toast on the floor.

That didn't even include the disaster that was Sirius suggesting they make American style pancakes. Neither of them had prowess with a flour bag.

"And this is why Remus is the cook of the family," Sirius said slowly as he took in the damage that they had done. He scratched his nose, humming quietly in thought. "We can clean up in a bit. Lyall said he would be working until three, and we've got five hours. What do you say we cut your hair?"

While Sirius was not a good cook in the least, he had a surprisingly steady hand for cutting hair. After searching both bathrooms, they finally found a pair of hair cutting scissors to use. Since the kitchen was already a mess, they decided that would be the best place to cut her hair. Emma sat facing the front door so that they wouldn't be startled if Lyall somehow came home earlier than he was supposed to.

Emma was initially in a panic at the idea of letting him anywhere near her hair, but she let him do a few test cuts, and it seemed all right.

"Are you sure you just want me to just cut it straight across?" Sirius asked as he brushed Emma's hair out.

"Yes, I promise – that's fine," Emma insisted. "I just want it to be shorter."

"Why didn't you cut your hair yourself if you just want it straight across?" Sirius asked conversationally as he started to cut Emma's hair.

"Oh, I, er…did I ever tell you how my second year went?"

"Yeah," Sirius said slowly, before adding an, "Oh."

"Needless to say, I haven't touched scissors since," Emma whispered. "I can't."

An awkward silence fell between them as Sirius continued to cut her hair, concentrating on keeping Emma's hair straight. "Are you afraid that you'll fall back into that habit again?" he asked after a while.

"Not anymore," Emma admitted. "I think if I were going to hurt myself again, I would have already, to be honest. Elara suggesting I have a much more intensive therapy helped a lot. It was hard to get through, but it helped."

"Remus told me all about the family sessions you two had when Elara had Dr. Wheeler came by. Had me join in it, actually," Sirius said, clearing his throat. "I'm not sure that it's for me."

"I didn't think it was for me either in the beginning," Emma responded after a moment. "I didn't think I had any real problems. I didn't think that the things Dad showed me affected me as much as they did."

Emma jumped as Sirius dropped the scissors with a clatter. He sucked in a sharp breath and threw his arms tightly around Emma from behind.

"I'm so sorry," Sirius whispered, pressing multiple kisses to her hair. "I am so incredibly sorry. Had I known…"

"I don't think it would have changed a thing," Emma whispered back, leaning back into Sirius's embrace. "You and Daddy did what you could with what you knew. Mum didn't tell either of you, so you can't…none of us can change the past."

"You kids did," Sirius pointed out. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be here. I'm incredibly grateful for that."

"That was different," Emma muttered, gripping tight to Sirius's arms. "It was only for three hours. We would have to go back to when I was born. As nice as it sounds, I don't know that we would have gotten to this point."

"We could have all been a family right at the beginning."

"And what if things went wrong? Papa, what if you or Daddy got hurt? We wouldn't have each other now if that happened. It was scary enough during those three hours, not knowing that we would actually succeed in saving you or Buckbeak. How things are right now is bad enough. I can't imagine not having either of you at all."

"Papa," Sirius breathed out, leaning forward to kiss Emma's cheek. "I don't know if I'll ever get used to that."

"Took Daddy some time to get used to, too," Emma said, turning her head so she could look at Sirius. "Like I said, we'll ease into that one. It'll take me some time to get used to saying it…unless you hate it, of course."

"No, I love it," Sirius said quickly. "Do you want to know a secret, though?"

"What is it?"

"I always thought it would be the other way around. I always thought I would be Daddy, and Remus would be Papa."

Emma considered it for a moment and gave a slight shrug. "I can see it," she said. "Not sure I could switch now, though, sorry. Besides, Papa Padfoot sounds nice."

Sirius chuckled softly. "I suppose it does."

Emma and Sirius were content to stay exactly how they were for a while. They both startled when they heard the back door open. They turned around quickly, checking the time in confusion that Lyall was home three hours early.

Lyall stood in the doorway, his jaw dropping as he took in the state of the kitchen. "What did you two do?" Lyall questioned as he did another scan of the kitchen. He looked over at Emma, his eyes widening. "And why does your hair look that way?"

Emma reached back to check her hair and immediately burst into laughter when she found a much longer section of hair than the rest. "Papa! You didn't even finish cutting my hair?"

"Oh, shit," Sirius said, running his hands through Emma's hair with a bark of laughter. "I didn't finish!"

A soft laugh of disbelief left Lyall's lips, and he smiled. "You know what? I'll clean up, it's fine. It's nice to see you smiling, Emma," he said, looking at Emma and Sirius fondly. He pointed a finger at Sirius. "Just, please finish cutting my granddaughter's hair. I don't think she would appreciate going around like that. I know teenagers have funny ideas of fashion now, but I think that's a bit out there."

"I absolutely would not like going out like this," Emma giggled, leaning sideways to pick up the scissors. She felt funny having them in her hand, and she handed them to Sirius. "Can't always be afraid, can I?" she whispered to him quietly.

Sirius kissed the top of her head. "No, you can't, baby girl. Let's get this finished," he said, taking the scissors from Emma's hand and working on finishing cutting her hair. He glanced up at the clock and frowned at Lyall as he started to clean up the mess they had made. "You're home early. Did something happen?"

Lyall froze as he started adding their dishes to the sink. "We'll talk about it tonight," he said, turning to Sirius with a tight smile. "Everything's all right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, goodness - thank you so much for so many kudos already! This is the FASTEST I've gotten readers for this series and I truly and honestly appreciate it. I'm super, super quiet about it, but I swear, I adore each and every one of you.
> 
> If you're new to the series, welcome! If you're returning, thank you for coming back! 
> 
> Just going to take a moment to plug I can be found literally anywhere. I love talking to you all even though I feel supeeerrrr awkward. I'm most active over on Twitter/Discord, but I'm planning to start posting on Tumblr again. Please - feel free to chat! :D 
> 
> I mentioned in the last chapter that I started _playlists_ for the series, as well! I've got a lot of chapters to get through, but I'm going to try and keep them updated for this installment! It might take me a few days to update, but I'm determined!  
>  **come find me on:**  
> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/mymoonyandstars)  
> [facebook](https://www.facebook.com/mymoonyandstars)  
> [the moonlit stars discord](https://discord.gg/DtrKMhaTHR)
> 
> [spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/r6xi6203vwza01epk6askwk15?si=t4wwYBERRymTJvw09FJG3Q)  
> 


	3. Sins of the Father

Having Sirius around made things much easier for everyone. Emma was fractionally more open to things, though not by much. She was still high-strung and emotional, but Sirius seemed to be a natural. Emma didn't think he needed Remus's guide at all, though she found it hysterical once she got past the initial embarrassment of it. Her father knew her entirely too well, and it was such an incredible show of his love for her that he tried to make things easier for Sirius.

Emma was very content with her much shorter hair, grateful for the return of the waves in her hair. Sirius cut her hair to just above her shoulders, and she couldn't be happier running her hands through it repeatedly.

Sirius was determined to get Emma out of the house, and he did it fairly quickly. How he managed to convince her to go into the garden to spend time with him and Buckbeak, Emma wasn't entirely sure. Even though she helped Harry and Hermione save Buckbeak, the hippogriff still terrified her.

Lyall, not wanting to repeat Emma not eating, opted to follow Sirius's advice, courtesy of Remus's guide, and made a simple pasta for dinner that first full day together. The moment Sirius noticed Emma starting to nod off, he suggested they move to the living room for a little bit. With her head lying in Sirius's lap and the fireplace lit, Emma fell asleep in moments. Lyall was silently grateful that Emma had finally stayed up most of the day.

"She hasn't stayed up all day since she got here," Lyall sighed, picking up his glass of whiskey. He didn't drink often, but a nightcap seemed appropriate.

"I don't know how Remus did it by himself when she was doing poorly," Sirius said, running his hands through Emma's hair, gently massaging her scalp.

"It was difficult, especially because she hid it so well," Lyall admitted. "I had no idea that Christmas until Remus had mentioned it to me later on. It made all of the little things she did make sense. Not that she was odd or anything, but some of her reactions seemed a bit put upon when I thought back on them."

"She's a lot like Remus in that respect. It's one of the reasons why I'm glad that my Animagus form is a dog. It's helpful."

"Because she loves dogs?"

"Yes, but not entirely," Sirius said, looking down at Emma. "She might try to hide things, but I always know. Remus mentioned that he didn't like it when she was upset, but her being upset didn't compare to when she gets scared. I didn't think it could be any worse than when someone is sad or angry…but Emma's fear is potent. It's a wonder she doesn't have any cases of accidental magic when she's terrified. She has strong emotions, especially when she's happy or excited, but her fear…her fear can make anyone else scared."

"I've never thought about that before," Lyall said quietly. "I don't know why it didn't occur to me that it would be the same for you, too."

"Most people don't think about it," Sirius chuckled softly. "Emma had a mild panic attack over it one night when we were all together back at Hogwarts. She was in the middle of talking and just stopped. Remus and I thought something was terribly wrong. She looked at me with such incredibly accusing eyes and asked about it. Remus and I thought it was the funniest thing in the world; Emma didn't find it very amusing."

"That sounds very much like Emma," Lyall said, taking a drink of whiskey.

Sirius looked up at Lyall, studying him for a moment. "Why were you home so early? Not that I'm not grateful that you came home early, but it felt like you only left."

"I worked for maybe two hours before I was called into a meeting," Lyall said, a wry smile crossing his face.

"What happened?"

"I've been suspended from the Ministry pending investigation."

"They suspended you?" Sirius asked incredulously.

"With pay – for now," Lyall sighed. "But I don't know how long it'll be before they fire me."

"For what?"

"Not properly disclosing Remus's condition, not disclosing Emma's condition – aiding in Remus and his supposed kidnapping of Emma," Lyall drained his glass in one gulp and looked between Emma and Sirius. "They're…they plan to…"

Sirius froze as he stared at Lyall. "They're going to take her from you, aren't they?"

Lyall nodded slowly. "I heard it from Arthur Weasley earlier today. He knows that his son George fancies Emma and came to me as a favor. He works over in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and heard Emma's name this morning in a meeting. Made sure to listen in as much as he could. Said he would get in contact with Dumbledore to see what he can do."

"You're her grandfather. Regardless of the situation, that wouldn't change. Even if she wasn't ours, on paper, she would still be Maggie's. Why would they dare take her away from you?"

"Apparently, they deem me unfit to care for her."

"Lyall, if she winds up in the wrong place –"

"I know."

Sirius sighed, looking down at Emma as he ran his hands through her hair. They knew that it would be a problem for Remus to get Emma back, but the situation was easier to manage knowing she was safe. "Do you know where they plan to move her?"

"No idea. Another home, possibly, but I don't know who. It could be literally anyone."

Silence fell between the men as they just watched Emma sleep. Sirius ran a hand over his face, meeting Lyall's gaze. "Did you know that Greyback wrote to her?" Sirius asked softly.

Lyall looked horrified. "What? No," he said with a growl. "When?"

"The day Remus was arrested – when they got back from school and just last night."

"What did he want?"

"To talk to her, I presume. His last message said to meet him over at Clyne Gardens at dusk."

Lyall froze and shook his head. "We can't let her leave the house, then."

"Lyall, we can't keep her locked up like I was. She's not going to be a prisoner while in her own home."

"And if Greyback gets to her? She doesn't even have a wand."

"As if one of us wouldn't be with her. And we get her one whether she wants it or not."

"You have to remain hidden, and she's not _allowed_ to have a wand."

"And why the bloody hell is she not allowed to have a wand? She didn't break any laws."

"For the same reasons they've suspended me – not disclosing her father's condition and not disclosing hers. If Dumbledore didn't step in as quickly as he did, I'm sure they would try to take her to court, too. Someone has to deem her fit enough to have a wand."

"She's fourteen, for fuck's sake. Even if she were a werewolf, she wouldn't have to disclose that information until she's of age."

"She wouldn't have to sign the registry until she was seventeen. She would still need to disclose her condition."

Sirius looked over at the fireplace with a frown. He was tempted to ask Lyall to relight the dying embers, but he felt it would be better to bring Emma up to bed sometime soon. When the flames died out, he would take her up, Sirius decided. He just hoped he could get her upstairs without waking her up like Remus could.

"Does she know the story about Greyback?" he asked quietly. "About why he attacked Remus?"

Lyall looked down at Emma and shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. "No, I don't believe so," Lyall replied. "She heard…she heard Remus and I get into a fight at Christmas. She knows that I knew she was yours and Remus's, but I don't know if she would have heard anything about Greyback. I can tell that she's still upset about it, and rightfully so."

"She needs to know the truth, Lyall. If the Ministry decides to take Emma, then she needs to know what Greyback is capable of."

"She doesn't need to know!" Lyall said sharply.

"Lyall, if you don't tell her yourself, then I will," Sirius said, careful to keep his tone level.

"Absolutely not."

"Are you going to tell me what I can and can't tell my daughter?"

Emma whined softly, stretching out her legs. "What are you two fighting about?" Emma mumbled, turning her face into Sirius's leg to try and block out the light.

"Nothing at all," Sirius said gently, rubbing Emma's back to try and soothe her long enough to relax. "Why don't you go back to sleep?"

"You're talking about me, and I want to know why," Emma said, turning her head to blink a single bleary eye at Sirius. "What is it?"

Sirius looked over at Lyall expectantly. "If you don't tell her, I'm going to have to, Lyall."

"Tell me what?" Emma asked curiously. She sat up slowly and leaned against Sirius as he put his arm around her shoulders. It wasn't at all the same as leaning against Remus, but she would take it.

"All of this is my fault," Lyall said softly. "The current situation," he added when he saw Emma's confused look. "With everything that's happened, if it weren't for me, things would have been fine. It all starts back before Remus was bitten."

"Is this…is this about Greyback?" Emma asked. "Is this what you and Dad were arguing about at Christmas?"

"Part of it, yes," Lyall said, rubbing his jaw. "Though, I don't blame him for everything else that was said. Has he ever told you the story that led to him being attacked?"

"Only parts of it," Emma said, glancing up at Sirius. "He's never told me the whole story, though. I don't understand why it's your fault, though."

"Because I was incredibly foolish and angered Greyback years ago," Lyall sighed, running his hands through his hair. "Things were getting dangerous and quickly. Things weren't nearly as peaceful as they are now. Voldemort was just growing into power by then, and he was recruiting all matters of dark creatures to try and overthrow the Ministry. It was…it was a terrifying time, and it never got better by the time you were born.

"I had been with my department for a while, and I was brought in to help with questioning Greyback over the deaths of two Muggle children. He insisted that he was a Muggle – caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was brought in with two others. He acted as though he had never met a wizard before in his life and pretended to be horrified by the children's deaths. He was very young then, can't have been any more than twenty-one. If I didn't know that he was a werewolf, I might have believed him, as well.

"Two of the members of the questioning committee believed that because his clothing was so dirty, and he had no wand that he was telling the truth. The rest of the committee wound up agreeing. I'll confess that he was an excellent actor, but I could see right through him. I knew he was a werewolf almost right away."

"How did you that he was a werewolf?"

"Quite honestly, he looked like shit," Lyall said gruffly. "You know how you and your father get before the full moon. A Muggle wouldn't have looked so incredibly ill. The full moon was the next day, and it made sense. The committee didn't believe me."

"Why didn't they believe you?" Emma asked, her forehead wrinkling as she tried to think of a possible reason why someone would discount the possibility. "If you knew that he was a werewolf, then why didn't they just keep him? If they kept Dad at the Ministry, there had to be somewhere they could've put Greyback."

"There was, but they refused to listen to me. The committee kicked me out of the room, and I told them it was the stupidest decision they could make. I said the worst possible things I could say about werewolves before leaving," Lyall said, a flicker of regret crossing his face. "And needless to say, Greyback escaped. Greyback killed the worker meant to cast a memory charm with the two men he had arrived with. The next night, he broke into Remus's room and attacked him to teach me a lesson."

"Grandpa…what did you say?" Emma asked breathlessly. She couldn't imagine what her grandfather could say. He could have a temper, but she only knew him as quiet and mild-mannered like her father. Though it never seemed that Greyback needed much provocation to attack, she didn't know what her grandfather could have said. It didn't make sense.

Lyall cleared his throat, casting his gaze downward. "I said that werewolves were soulless and evil monsters and deserved nothing but death for what they were. It was inexcusable of me. I was very ignorant."

A heavy silence fell in the living room, and Emma leaned further into Sirius as she tried to let that process. "You don't believe that now, do you?" Emma asked, feeling stupid as her voice cracked. Did that mean he felt the same way about her now, too?

"No," Lyall said quickly, earnestly as he met Emma's gaze. "How could I? Remus has never been anything but my sweet and clever Remy. I could never…I could never think that about you or your father." Lyall swallowed hard, pulling off his glasses to wipe at his eyes. "I don't know where your father got it in his head that I felt that way about him. Once it was there, I couldn't get him to believe otherwise, and we suffered because of it. I would have done anything for my children, and I still would…If I could change things…"

"Well, we can't change anything now, can we?" Emma said quietly.

"No, we can't," Sirius said, kissing the top of Emma's head.

"It wasn't the only time Greyback came around," Lyall muttered. "It was part of the reason why we moved so much. A lot of it was to keep the neighbors from realizing what Remus was, but a lot of it was to keep Greyback away. He wanted to take Remus as his own."

"Greyback wants me to be Dad's replacement, I think," Emma said quietly. "He didn't get Dad, so he wants to take me instead… But he also wants me to be like Dad – educated."

"How do you know that?" Sirius asked in alarm. "Why would you say that?"

"I had…I dreamed a memory with Jude and Greyback. It was a memory of sometime before I turned two that I remembered," Emma explained to Sirius's horror. "I explicitly recall Greyback saying I was too small, so he was willing to wait to take me…but I don't remember much else."

"Lyall, would that be true?" Sirius asked, tightening his hold around Emma's shoulders.

"It very well could be," Lyall responded quietly. "Most of the children that Greyback takes are around five like Remus. Emma's was certainly on the smaller side even as a toddler; it wouldn't have been entirely unlike him to wait."

"Grandpa, what exactly happened to the two children?" Emma asked curiously. "If it wasn't the full moon, what happened to them?"

Lyall's face turned grave, and he looked over at Sirius, who only gave a slight nod. Lyall nodded in response, swallowing thickly. "Two girls – ten and fourteen. They were…"

Emma felt incredibly ill, and she shook her head quickly. She had read enough about Greyback to know that it wasn't going to be good. It was why she still had doubts that Greyback wasn't the one to hurt her. The fact that there were two others made it even worse.

"You don't have to say it," Emma said with a shuddering breath. She understood.

"Do you understand why it's important that you don't go to Greyback?" Sirius asked gently. He reached over to take Emma's left hand, turning it so he could look at the scar on her wrist from Greyback. "We're not letting him do the same to you. He's done enough."

"You act as if I'm going to have a choice," Emma said, pulling her hand out of Sirius's. "Papa, if no one has been able to stop him before, why now?"

"You do have a choice! You're important to us, and we're never going to let you get into that position."

"That's what Daddy said, and yet I still find myself around him."

"Because you let yourself!"

"Last time, yes, but the other two times I didn't!"

"You went to Greyback?" Lyall asked sharply. "Why would you do that?"

"It wasn't on purpose, not exactly, and that's not the point right now!" Emma shouted. "What about all of those other children? Weren't they important to their parents? All the girls that had to go through the same thing as I did when I was younger? We don't even know what happened in that entire time that I don't remember. What about all the boys who have to grow up thinking that their worth will be defined by violence? Papa, I love you, but I know what I have to do. I'm going to have to be the one to stop Greyback."

"Emma Hope, you are _not_ going anywhere near Greyback!" Sirius said sternly.

"And you all act as though I have a choice on whether or not _he_ comes to _me_! If this is how he works, then there's no getting around it."

"Emma! He is dangerous!"

"So is Daddy – so am I! I'm not afraid of Greyback!" Emma shouted, shooting up from the couch, her hands balled into tight fists. "I am _not_ going to let Greyback be the one to dictate my life and force me to live in fear. I am _not_ going to be afraid of him. I know he's dangerous, I know what he's capable of, but I know that I can be smarter than him."

"Emma, you are fourteen, going on fifteen. He is so much older than you are! He is incredibly smart and terribly clever."

"He's been doing this for far longer than you've even been alive, cariad," Lyall said.

"Just because he's older than me, it doesn't mean he's smarter than I am!" Emma said, shooting Sirius and her grandfather venomous looks before stomping up the stairs.

Sirius and Lyall stared at each other incredulously as Emma's door slammed shut. "How is that girl not a Gryffindor?" Sirius asked breathlessly. "She's going to get herself killed!"

"Remus told me that she's been very vocal about it," Lyall sighed. "I don't think anything we tell her is going to make her change her mind."

"We have to try and explain to her how dangerous it is," Sirius said, crossing his arms. "She doesn't understand what she's trying to get herself into."

"Oh, no," Lyall said, standing up. "You're on your own for that one. If Remus can't get through to her, then I don't think any of us will."

"What? You're not going to back me up on this one?"

"When she gets into that mood, you have more chances of convincing a Goblin to forge something for you for free," Lyall said darkly as he made his way to the kitchen.

"Some help you are," Sirius muttered, making his way upstairs. He gently knocked on Emma's door. "Sweetheart? Can I come in?"

"Go away!" Emma shouted; her voice muffled from the other side of the door. Based off of the sound, Sirius could hazard a guess that Emma had wrapped herself in her nest of blankets to try and hide.

"I'm coming in," Sirius said sharply, trying the door and letting out a quiet growl when he found it locked. It had been a long time since he had used wandless magic, but he channeled every bit of himself that he could into unlocking the door. Regular doorknobs were at least easy to open, and he smirked when he heard the click of the lock.

"No!" Emma shouted in aggravation as her door unlocked. Sirius could hear her jumping off of her bed to lock the door again. Before she could reach it, Sirius had the door open, and he pinned Emma with a hard stare.

"Sit," Sirius said firmly.

"No," Emma said sharply.

"Sit. Down."

"No! I won't!"

"Emma Hope, _sit down_."

"No! Stop acting like you're my dad!" The words slipped out of Emma's mouth before she could stop herself, and the moment they did and saw the look on Sirius's face, tears filled her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, quickly turning around to try and hide her tears. "I didn't…I didn't mean it. You were…you were dad first…"

Sirius sighed, gently pulling Emma back over to her bed and sitting her down. "It's going to take a lot more than that to hurt me," Sirius said with a soft chuckle. He knelt down in front of Emma, brushing her tears off her face. "No, I think Remus was dad first, even if he didn't know. We made sure he was the first one to hold you besides your mother, of course. I know I've been a poor excuse of a parent, being locked up in Azkaban and the whatnot. I don't know what I'm doing. Taking care of you was much easier when you were barely taller than my knee. Your biggest troubles were me putting the wrong trousers on you or putting them on backward – terribly hard to tell which way was the front. Now, you're almost fifteen, and you want to take on the world with strong opinions and even bigger dreams. Not too different than me and Moony – stubborn and sure that nothing would happen to us."

Emma let out a small laugh, rubbing her eyes. "I'm tired of this," Emma sniffled, unable to meet Sirius's eyes. "I sound like a broken record, and I know that, but I don't want to be here. We should be home. I know that wasn't going to be easy, but we had a plan."

"I know," Sirius said, taking Emma's hands. "I know you don't want to be here, and I know that we should be home. But that doesn't mean you go running straight to Greyback because you don't want to be here."

"I'm not running straight to Greyback," Emma sighed. "I don't…run to him, he comes to me. I just feel like none of you listen to me. Papa, I had to make my own decisions for ten years without you or Daddy. That was ten years that I spent with him. If I got this far around him, then nothing is going to happen to me. If he bites me and I become a werewolf, well…it's not as though the Ministry hasn't decided that's my fate, anyway. I've had enough scares over the possibility that I don't care anymore."

"That's not the point. Emma, you are only fourteen –"

"Almost fifteen, yes, I know. But I can –"

"This is so much bigger than you are, sweetheart. If you get hurt –"

"Then it's my own fault! There are only two more years until I'm of age –"

"Which means you are still a child!"

A dark look crossed Emma's face as she finally met Sirius's gaze. "I haven't been a child in years," she said quietly. "I was taken away from everyone at two and forced to live in a children's home. I met Dad again, started at Hogwarts, and became friends with a girl I had apparently been friends with my entire life.

"My second year, I felt so unloved by everyone around me that I thought it would be easier to end my life. I didn't want to be a burden, and even Daddy made it seem like he didn't want me. I didn't understand that he acted the way he did because he was scared…

"Fast forward to last year, I suffered for months before Daddy told me what actually happened and what he was and what I was. A month later, I met you, and I found out what was done to me. And now, I'm not allowed to be home with Daddy because of what he is. I can't have my things. I have essentially become a monster to people I thought were friends. I have nearly no recollection ten years of my life other than that they happened. The only proof I have are the pictures that Greyback gave me.

"My entire life has involved Fenrir Greyback, and it's not going to stop just because you and Grandpa think you can stop him. I stopped being a child a very long time ago. I am more than capable of making my own decisions."

Sirius gently brushed his thumbs over Emma's knuckles as he thought about what to say next. He desperately wished he could have Remus there because he would know the right thing to say. Sirius did not.

"Well, we want you to be a child now," Sirius said. "You have done far more than any of us have ever expected of you. Please, let us take care of you."

Emma studied Sirius for several long minutes before she finally nodded.

Having Sirius and Lyall around suddenly felt stifling to Emma as each day passed. The first day together was fine, but by the third day, she was miserable. She loved them, she wouldn't ever deny that, but it was difficult. They had entirely different energies compared to Remus.

Lyall was quiet but was somehow more insistent than Remus ever was. Sirius was energetic, trying to make up for lost time and embracing the relative freedom he had in the house. Emma had taken to pretending to fall asleep at random points. Though she doubted Sirius believed her, Lyall fell for it every single time. She could curse Remus for failing to add a note that sometimes she desperately needed space.

After two days of Emma avoiding both men, Sirius finally seemed to get sick of it. The moment Emma tried to escape from breakfast, Sirius had a fistful of Remus's jumper in his hand.

"Don't you dare think about sneaking upstairs again," Sirius said, an eyebrow arching as he took in Emma's glare.

"I thought you were going to be the fun parent," Emma muttered.

"I am the fun parent," Sirius huffed. "That's why we're going on a walk. You need to get out of the house, and since you've refused going out with your grandfather to get some new clothes, we're going to the park."

"To the _park_?" Emma asked, her face twisting at the audacity of the very idea of going to a park. She just wanted to stay in her room and be left alone.

"Sirius, I don't think that's a good idea," Lyall said lightly.

"Not your daughter, Lyall," Sirius said, standing up. He gave Emma's shoulder a squeeze and motioned for her to head to the entryway. "Come on, get your shoes on."

Being outside was more helpful than Emma expected. She didn't feel as trapped walking to the park, and Sirius as a dog was an enjoyable companion. As they walked, he chased whatever bird he could find just for entertainment, barking happily.

"Snuffles, you need to be careful," Emma laughed as he found a cat to chase down the road. "I think I'm meant to have a lead for you, and I don't."

That seemed to tone down Sirius's antics. As fun as they were, she didn't need one of the neighbors to call a dogcatcher. She couldn't even imagine how she would be able to explain that one to her grandfather and the very idea of it made her grimace. That would be a complicated thing to fix.

The park they went to arguably was not much of a park at all so much as it was a wide, open field surrounded by trees with a trail. There was a small play area, but it didn't hold any interest to Emma. Instead, they made their way down the trail. To Sirius's absolute delight, there was a stream that he immediately ran into. To Emma's horror, he grabbed firmly onto her sleeve with his teeth and tried to pull her into the water with him.

After spending several minutes convincing him that she didn't want to go in, she settled for foraging through the wildflowers. Sirius seemed to be enjoying himself, snapping his teeth at whatever fish he could find. Emma was much more content sitting and watching him while making him a flower crown of purple flowers.

When Sirius had his fill of the stream, he gladly made his way over to Emma and shook himself out.

"Are you bloody kidding me?" Emma shouted, wiping her face off and glaring at Sirius. "Bit rude of you, yeah?" Sirius only smiled in response, tail wagging and tongue out. With a heavy sigh, Emma dropped the flower crown she made on top of Sirius's head. "Come on, I want to find a tree to get away from you." Sirius didn't seem to mind in the least, and they made their way back to the open field.

The park was surprisingly populated, but it was a nice summer day, and Emma realized it wasn't surprising at all. They were close enough to the shore that the cool breezes rolled inland, cooling off the area and keeping away the stifling heat. Emma found a decent tree to climb and found the sturdiest branch to perch upon. She was still terrified of falling, but the branch she found was stable and a perfect resting spot. Sirius laid in the shade down below, head resting on his paws. Emma leaned back against the wide trunk with her eyes closed, focusing on the rustle of the leaves and the people who walked by.

Being up in the tree reminded Emma of the first week she ever had home with Remus and her unfortunate drop climbing down. She didn't understand why Remus didn't want her playing in the trees, never received any explanation, but after finding out Greyback came around, it made sense. Remus had been hoping to avoid issues with Greyback right at the start, worried that he would make himself known. Who would have guessed that it wouldn't have mattered? No matter what Remus did, Fenrir always would have been there.

She idly wondered if Remus would be more willing to extend the security lines in the backyard. Climbing trees was such a simple pleasure for her, and she wondered when exactly she started. Much like most of her thoughts, she was acutely aware that a memory existed, but she didn't know what it was. It was frustrating that she couldn't remember, and it felt like as time moved on, she remembered less and less.

Her eyes snapped open with a harrowing thought, and she straightened up slightly. What if Fenrir had a jar of her old memories? It seemed like a logical possibility having watched Dumbledore extract her memories at the end of her second year. Her stomach knotted at the possibility that was what Persephone was referring to. If that was the case, how was she meant to not be tempted? The idea of anyone holding onto her memories like that was not a possibility she wanted to think about.

She rubbed her temples as Soleil made a sudden appearance in her mind. The wolfish side of her was content to lay dormant around Sirius, seemingly picking up on his canine energy, but something set her off. Emma peered down at the ground to see Sirius still relaxing, apparently somewhere between awake and asleep. If he didn't seem bothered, then perhaps Soleil just wanted to be loud and annoying. That wasn't entirely out of the realm of possibility as Emma still didn't know how to push her aside for the rest of the month. But Soleil was too insistent, and Emma realized she needed to pay attention to her instincts.

Emma immediately tensed up, looking around. She was aware that something was very off in the park. Families were walking by like normal, some with dogs that were overly curious over Sirius. Small children ran down the trail, squealing loudly. On the surface, things looked normal, but there was a dark magic lingering. A dark magic similar to hers.

Even though Soleil had been around Fenrir before, she had been quiet as Emma was fully aware of the werewolf's presence. This was completely different, a sharp and persistent feeling that a werewolf was present – one she needed to be afraid of. While Emma wasn't scared, Soleil seemed to be on some level. That didn't make Emma feel better at all.

Emma wasn't sure where he was at, but she _knew_ he was lurking and close by. She sat up straighter, trying to look around, but still found nothing. Emma knew all too well that didn't mean they were alone; Fenrir was a silent predator.

"Hey, Sirius, I think we should go back," Emma shouted down from her perch.

Sirius looked up from where he lay, with a yawn, his head tilting slightly before his head twisted around. He sprung up on all four paws with a snarl, and Emma frowned. Fenrir had been practically underneath her and right behind Sirius. Sirius was far too tired to realize, and Emma didn't think to just look down at the other side of her perch. How could she be so stupid?

"I see you brought your dog," Fenrir said conversationally.

Emma glared down at Fenrir from where she sat. There were about a hundred things she wanted to say to him but couldn't settle on one.

"You know, dogs are meant to be on leads," Fenrir said, sounding almost bored. "Yours doesn't have one. It would be a shame if something were to happen to him."

"Funny," Emma said. "Suppose you should put yourself on one since you insist on acting like a dog."

"It would be unfortunate if he were to wind up in Azkaban again. I'm sure the Dementors are angry that he escaped."

"Why are you here?" Emma asked, purposely trying to ignore the small dig that forced Sirius to sit back down. She couldn't stand the idea that the threat of Azkaban, or worse, knocked Sirius down several pegs. "You said dusk at Clyne Gardens. Based off of the, ah, sun in the sky, it's approximately late morning, and we're nowhere near the gardens."

"We're close enough."

"Doesn't explain why you're here."

"I thought you would pull a little stunt such as this one when you didn't show up. Why don't you come down and we can talk?"

"I don't want to talk to you," Emma huffed. "Sirius, stop it," Emma added when Sirius started growling again.

"I can always make you come down…"

"How? I'm in a bloody tree," Emma scoffed. There was a sudden sound of cracking, and Emma felt the branch she was on give an ominous shake. She gripped tight to the branch as if that would offer any stability. "Well, that's not good," she muttered to herself.

"What was that about being in a tree?"

"You wouldn't dare," Emma challenged, shooting Fenrir a glare.

"Wouldn't I?"

A solid branch dropped down from next to her, nearly hitting Sirius as it landed hard on the ground. Sirius was on his feet again, snarling at Fenrir, and people were starting to look.

"How?" Emma shouted. "You don't even have a wand!"

"I don't need one."

There was another crack, and Emma groaned. She felt much better in the tree, but she wasn't sure how much longer she could safely test Fenrir's patience. Another crack of the branch and Emma didn't have a choice as she startled herself out of the tree. Landing directly right into Fenrir Greyback's arms, held almost like a bride, was not at all what Emma wanted.

She glared at Fenrir, pushing hard against his chest to get out of his grip with a shout of disgust. Emma dropped to the ground with a dull thud, and she groaned at the jolt of pain that shot up her spine.

"You did that one to yourself," Fenrir said, crouching down next to her.

"You were going to drop me out of a tree."

"Only if you didn't come down." Fenrir lifted a hand to stroke the scar on Emma's cheek, humming softly. "Well, that one didn't come from me."

Emma ripped her face back from Fenrir's hand. "No, and I'd like to keep it that way, thanks."

"Oh, but didn't I tell you I wanted to decorate your face for you?" Fenrir asked conversationally. "Don't think I haven't forgotten…"

"Sirius, stop it," Emma said sharply, turning her head to look over at Sirius. She gasped as Fenrir gripped hard to her chin, jerking her face around to look at him.

"What's her name?" Fenrir questioned. His eyes were boring into Emma's, and as stupid as it was, she held his gaze.

"What are you talking about?" Emma asked, feeling ridiculous as she shoved an arm out to keep Sirius where he was at.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Rabbit. Don't play stupid," Fenrir said, leaning in close. "She has a name now, doesn't she?"

Emma tried to pull her face out of Fenrir's grip, but he held tighter, and she didn't bother trying to stifle her growl. "I'm not telling you," she spat.

Fenrir's chuckle was low and dark, his head tilting slightly. "It's much easier if you just tell me," he said, licking his teeth. "She'll speak to me when she's tired of you holding her back."

"Get the fuck away from my daughter."

Hearing Sirius's voice gave her enough willpower to pull herself out of Fenrir's grip. She scrambled back quickly, staring up at Sirius in horror.

"Sirius, what are you doing?" Emma hissed, her eyes wide as she looked between Fenrir and Sirius. Sirius's sudden appearance quickly drew far more attention than she wanted, and her breath caught at the first loud screech of Sirius's name. She forgot that even Muggles knew who Sirius was, the Ministry determined to catch him. What was he doing?

"And I thought your dog was smart," Fenrir growled at Emma.

"Emma, get home _now_ ," Sirius shouted, throwing himself at Fenrir.

Emma stared in open-mouthed horror at what was happening until she heard other people screaming Sirius's name. They didn't care about Fenrir, didn't know who he was, they just thought Sirius was attacking someone like them. She didn't want to leave Sirius, but the dark look on Fenrir's face had her quickly on her feet. Without a second glance, Emma ran as fast as she could.

She still hadn't woken up from her nightmare like she'd hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Action and Fenrir in the THIRD chapter? What is this? It's CHAOS. So, I thought I would bring up my upload schedule - I have no idea what it's going to be. I have a general outline and I can usually knock out a chapter per day (surprising, I know). I can guarantee one chapter a week, but chances are it'll be multiple updates a week. My current outline has around 40-45 chapters, but we'll see what happens. The idea that I can finish this story before the end of the year is totally terrifying to me since my average is around 5 months per book so far.
> 
> **come find me on:**  
> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/mymoonyandstars)  
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> 


	4. Where it All Began

Lyall was working in the garden when Emma finally made it back home, tears streaming down her face. She could care less about Greyback, but she was beyond worried about Sirius. What had possessed him to do such a thing with people around? He never dared to show himself in Hogsmeade, so why here?

"Grandpa!" she shouted, drawing Lyall's attention from the bush he was trying to trim. Buckbeak was pecking around for things to eat and gave a loud and annoyed squawk at Emma's outburst. Lyall was momentarily stunned. He watched Emma sit heavily on the stairs back into the house, but he quickly ran over to her.

"Where's Sirius?" Lyall asked urgently, gently lifting Emma's face and wiping her tears away. "What happened?"

"I-it was G-Greyback!" Emma cried. "Sirius, h-he –"

Emma couldn't finish her sentence, but luckily, she didn't have to. Sirius had transformed into Padfoot and ran into the yard. He looked all right, which was good, but it didn't make her any less terrified. The moment he spotted Emma and Lyall, he transformed back, looking at Lyall with large eyes. Emma was grateful to see that Sirius didn't look too beat up other than the start of a bruise over his right eye.

"Aurors are going to be coming," Sirius said quickly. "I managed to shake them off and transformed where they didn't see me, so they don't know that I'm an Animagus. They saw me head this way, though." He quickly reached into his pocket, pulling out a penknife, and shoved it into Emma's hands. "I should have given you this before. Do not go anywhere without this. Ever. I have to leave."

"What about Greyback?" Lyall asked, helping Emma up in her frantic scramble.

"Disapparated the moment Aurors showed up. They got there quickly," Sirius said. He studied Emma's face for a moment before pulling her close to kiss the top of her head. "I am so sorry that I have to leave you again. Keep yourself safe, okay, Pumpkin? I love you so much. I promise you that we're all going to be together someday…"

Without a second glance, Sirius rushed over to Buckbeak and pulled himself onto the hippogriff. For the second time ever, Emma had to watch Sirius leave, and her heart broke for the millionth time. She looked down at the knife in her hand with a frown. What was she supposed to do with it?

"Shit," Lyall hissed, running his hands through his hair. "Come on, we need to get inside because things are going to move quickly."

The moment they were back inside, Lyall turned to Emma. "I want you to go around the house and find every possible trace of Sirius being here that you can find," he said quickly. He grabbed the stack of papers that Sirius brought with him and shoved them in Emma's free hand. "Hide them in your bag and hide them as best as you can. I know you don't have much, but…do your best. There's a strong possibility that they're going to take you with them."

"Who's going to take me?"

"The Aurors," Lyall said after a beat.

"What? Where are they going to take me?" Emma stammered, suddenly terrified of the idea of not being with Lyall. With Sirius having to leave so quickly, her grandfather was the last connection she had to family at all. "I don't…I don't want to leave!" As much as Emma wanted to be anywhere other than her grandfather's, the idea of being taken and moved somewhere else was too much. The only way she wanted to leave was so that she could go home.

"I don't know," Lyall admitted. "I don't know where they're going to take you. Sirius is right – they're going to come here. I have no doubt that they're going to question you – lie and say he was never here. You're not going to be able to get around saying that he was wherever you were, so don't lie about that. I have to fix the garden of Buckbeak's damage, and I'm going to try and get in touch with Dumbledore. Go – quick!"

Sirius had come with even less than Emma did, which was helpful. Still, she had to find whatever traces there were. A toothbrush out of place, too many chairs moved – anything that seemed off, Emma fixed. She ran to her room and shoved the papers from Remus and the penknife deep into the bottom of her messenger bag. She covered them with the rubbish that Sirius had mostly cleaned up. She shoved the parchment they had been playing games on into her bag, crumpling it up tightly. The dog hair was more of a challenge to take care of.

How much time had passed? How much time did they have? Having a wand would make the situation so much easier, but she scoured her room for every bit of hair she could find. It was fortunate that Sirius only stayed a dog in her room. Would they try searching her room? Emma hated every bit of what she had to deal with. Curious, Emma looked out her window to see how the garden looked. Somehow her grandfather had made it look entirely hippogriff free, vanishing all of the extra feathers and repairing the torn-up grass. For a moment, Emma even doubted that Buckbeak was ever in the backyard.

When she was sure that she had found every trace of dog hair and shoved it in her bag, Emma flopped onto her bed. She was panting hard, her heart racing from how quickly she had to move. Emma rubbed her hands down her face, annoyed at how tight it felt from her dried tears. Her life wasn't fair.

Emma was tired of crying, tired of being a massive and tightly wound ball of stress. She could feel herself starting to crack, small fissures breaking their way into her wall. Every part of her said to fall into old habits, just for relief, but she had to be strong. All she wanted was her father – that would make things easier. He always knew what to do or what to say to make her feel better, even when his advice was actually terrible.

With a shaky breath, Emma climbed up her bed to reach into her nightstand to pull out her stack of letters. Remus's last letter was right on top just so she could read his words over and over again. It was cruel that they had finally settled into life together as father and daughter only to be separated. Emma understood that things were always a risk having Remus as a father, but that was _before_ they found out she was actually his. It was well before they learned that her mother was a surrogate for her father and Sirius – her fathers. One day she would remember they were both her father. The stakes were much higher now than ever before but made things even worse. She had no idea how any of this was going to get fixed.

A soft knock at the door made Emma jump, and she frowned as her door opened, and Lyall peeked in. "The Aurors want to talk to you," he said gently.

When had the Aurors even arrived?

Emma nodded, carefully folding Remus's letter back up and putting it back in her drawer. She wondered idly if she needed to pack up the few things she had and looked over at Aurora sleeping on her perch near the window. If they decided to take her, would she be allowed to take Aurora wherever she went? Surely, she had to be able to. They wouldn't dare stick a magical child in a Muggle home. Maybe she could go to the Longbottom's. Augusta scared her, but at least she would be fine there. Possibly even the Weasley's, but perhaps not – there were too many of them. She wouldn't want to be a burden.

She froze on the landing when she saw four very unfamiliar men standing around the living room. Emma looked up at her grandfather nervously, a hand coming up to seize the back of his shirt. With a slight whimper, she molded herself into Lyall's side. Apparently, she didn't work through everything with Dr. Wheeler like she'd hoped.

"There aren't any women available right now?" Lyall asked, putting his arm around Emma protectively. "I'm afraid there are too many of you, and she's not fond of men that she doesn't know."

"Not fond of men?" asked one of the Auror, a tan-skinned man with dark eyes that reminded Emma a little too much of Jude. Emma already didn't like him. "That's ridiculous."

"Walsh, would you shut up?" said another one of the men. "If anyone had to look at _you,_ they wouldn't be fond either."

"Tonks, Smalls, and Honeycutt are out on other cases right now," said another Auror, a fair-haired, shorter man, "so no, it's just us right now."

The man who had snapped at Walsh plastered a smile on his face, stepping closer to Emma. "Hi, Emelyn –"

"It's Emma," Emma muttered, staring at the man dubiously.

"Pardon?" the man asked, looking slightly taken aback.

"My name's Emma. Not Emelyn. It's never been Emelyn."

The Auror looked back at the other three, who shrugged. He turned back to Emma and chuckled. "Well, your paperwork says Emelyn –"

"I'm aware of what the paperwork says, but that's _not_ my name."

"Cariad," Lyall said gently, giving Emma a slight squeeze in a silent warning. It only made her angry, but she clamped her mouth shut.

"Right, well, _Emma_ ," the man said, thrusting his hand out and clearing his throat. "My name is John Dawlish, and we're here to ask you a few questions."

Emma shrunk back from the man's hand, glaring at him accusingly. She didn't want to talk to this man at all, and she pushed herself slightly behind Lyall. Dawlish stared at her for a moment and glanced over at Lyall in surprise.

"Why don't we sit down?" Lyall said, pulling a very reluctant Emma over to the sofa and sitting her down.

She shot her grandfather a traitorous look as he sat down next to her, and Dawlish sat in Remus's armchair. If Emma had her wand, she would have hexed Dawlish straight out of it. A part of her wondered if she could, anyway, but Lyall broke her focus with a hand to her shoulder.

"Right," Dawlish said slowly. "Now, we have eyewitnesses say that they saw Sirius Black over in the park down the road. Would you know anything about that?"

"No," Emma huffed in annoyance. "He wasn't there."

"You're absolutely positive that Sirius Black wasn't in the park?"

"I think I would know Sirius Black if I saw him," Emma said with a sniff. "Bit of a scary bloke, yeah?"

"Yes, and dangerous," Dawlish agreed. "While we didn't see Black, we did see Greyback when we arrived before he Disapparated. Do you know anything about that?"

Emma looked up at Dawlish. " _He_ was there," she said, not caring about confirming his presence.

"What happened with Greyback? Where was he?"

"He was annoying me like he usually does. I suppose that means he was with me, but I didn't want him there."

"If you didn't seek him, was he trying to kidnap you and try to bring you back to Remus Lupin?"

Emma couldn't help the laugh that burst forth. "Not at all," Emma said. "The day he ever does that is the day that the world must be ending. He would never."

"What does that mean?"

"Oh, Greyback wants to take me, but certainly not to bring me back home. That's bloody brilliant. Thank you, I think you've cured my entire mental state over this whole ordeal."

Dawlish stared at Emma, trying to figure out if Emma was joking or not. He looked back over at Walsh, who had frozen in the doorway, looking curiously at Emma.

"Why wouldn't Greyback want to take you back to Lupin?" Walsh asked. "They're both werewolves like you are."

Emma looked over at Walsh, her eyes narrowing slightly. She didn't know why she was so afraid of the Aurors before when they were rather funny. "Well, here's the thing – I'm not a werewolf despite what the Ministry thinks," Emma said. "I don't transform. I get sick, but I don't transform, and I certainly can't infect anyone. If anyone cares to spend a night with me on the full moon, it's very easily proven. I'm pretty boring, though, as a fair warning. And my _father_ doesn't like Greyback. Just because they're both werewolves, it doesn't mean that they're the same."

"All werewolves are savage beasts –"

"Tell me, and I'm curious to know, when you arrested my father, did he go willingly? Or did he fight? How many men did you insist on taking with you? Did you bring the Werewolf Capture Unit for good measure?" Emma asked, biting back her smirk when all four Aurors looked at each other and then back at her. "Not all werewolves are monsters like Greyback. My father certainly isn't."

Silence fell, and Emma sat back, crossing her arms. She felt smug for a small moment, proud of herself for sticking up for herself and her father. It wasn't going to be the last time she would have to do it, she knew that, but she still felt proud about it. Lyall didn't seem too amused, and neither did any of the Aurors, but Emma didn't care.

"Well, due to the nature of the situation, we've been given authorization to move you to a new location," Dawlish said. "We have an Auror out in Bristol with a car that was asked to make his way over. He should be arriving soon."

"Where am I going?" Emma asked, deflating slightly. "A car?"

"Not sure where you're going," Dawlish said, standing up. "Lyall, do you mind? Let's move into the other room to talk some more. Walsh, stay here and watch her. Make sure she doesn't try to leave."

The staring contest Emma had with Walsh only ended when her concentration was broken by one of the last voices she wanted to hear. Emma looked over at Ellis as he stepped through the entryway, shaking hands with Dawlish. "Received a message on the way over with Emma's assignment, so I'm ready to head back out," Ellis said to Dawlish.

"And _where_ exactly are _you_ taking me?" Emma asked, crossing her arms as she glared at Ellis.

There was a flash of something in Ellis's face that gave Emma pause, but he masked it quickly. He pasted a smile on his face, though it didn't meet his eyes. "Well, Dumbledore's got it in his head that you are best back in the children's home you lived in before. You were meant to be moved to the one in London, but we'll be heading up to York."

Emma's stomach sank. "Saint Nicholas?" Emma asked, losing all of her resolve. "You can't…I can't go back there."

"Well, you don't have a choice," Ellis said, keeping his tone level. "It'll be much easier if you don't fight us on this. The sooner we leave, the sooner you can get settled in."

"I don't _want_ to get settled in. I want to go back home."

"You're not going back to Remus. The children's home is your new home now. Now, go pack your things so we can leave," Ellis said, giving Emma a once-over before following Dawlish to the kitchen.

Emma couldn't move from the couch. Going back to Saint Nicholas's was one of the worst possible things she could ever think of happening. She was sure that it was in her top three nightmares, though she couldn't figure out where it sat. It was a fiddly top three, and she was sure it fit somewhere between something happening to Remus and getting bit by Greyback. The memories of Saint Nicholas were vague, like the rest of her memories, but she remembered the last two weeks very clearly. The last two weeks had been the hardest and the best she had ever had. She didn't care what Jocelyn did to her those two weeks because she was finally leaving. Returning to the children's home felt like she would walk back into that all over again. Was Tracey still there?

"Are you going to pack?" Walsh asked sharply.

"I guess," Emma said quietly, standing up slowly. The only good thing was she would be close to home. 9 miles away from Upper Helmsley was nicer than nearly 313 miles. She was already forming new plans in her head. This could be an okay move.

Packing was much faster than it should've been. Her entire life once again fit into one bag, and she hated it. She had left Saint Nicholas's with a single bag, and she was going back with one. It felt almost ironic. She tucked her letters very carefully into her messenger bag and added the rest of her clothes. With a sigh, Emma picked up the jumper that Sirius had brought for her, and she held it close for a moment before deciding to put it on. Emma tossed the strap of her bag over her shoulder and lifted her arm with a quiet whistle for Aurora to join her.

It appeared that the other Aurors had left when Emma made it back downstairs. She looked between Ellis and Lyall with a slight frown. Somehow this was infinitely worse than having all of the Aurors around.

"What am I meant to do with Aurora? She has to come, but I don't have her cage because Dad's got it."

"Aurora stays," Ellis said. "You can't bring her."

"I can't bring Aurora? But she's –"

"It might be a mixed facility, but you can't bring her. There's nowhere for her to stay, and as far as anyone's concerned, you're going to be the only magical child present. Hogwarts letters aren't due out for another week, at least."

Emma looked over at Aurora, and her shoulders sagged. How was she meant to write to anyone without Aurora? Maybe someone's owl would be smart enough to find her, but she wasn't too sure. What if there were charms set up so specific owls couldn't reach the premises? Obviously, the Hogwarts owls were all right. Could she borrow one?

"Is it still Ward that's there?" Emma asked quietly.

" _Mister_ Ward. Yes."

"Of course," Emma muttered, letting Lyall take Aurora from her. Lyall set Aurora on one of the armchairs and pulled Emma into a tight hug.

"Be careful, Emma," he whispered. "You're on your own now."

"I know," Emma whispered back. "But I'm a Lupin, and if there's one thing I'm proud of, it's being my father's daughter. If I learned anything from Dad last year, it's how to make trouble and be good at hiding it. I'll be fine."

Lyall squeezed Emma tightly. "That sounds exactly like him," he said, pulling back, resting his hands on Emma's shoulders. "Merlin, you have grown up so much."

"Can't really stop that," Emma said quietly, looking back at Ellis. "I'll be fine. I promise." With one final hug and a kiss on her cheek, Emma reluctantly followed Ellis to the car. She gave him a funny look when he opened her door for her and cast one final look back at Lyall with a small wave. It would be a while before she saw the house again, but it wouldn't be forever.

"I wasn't aware that you knew how to drive," Emma said at some point during the drive. It was strangely silent, and she didn't like it. She didn't particularly want to talk to Ellis, but it was better than just listening to the radio and music she didn't recognize. "Don't recall Persephone ever telling me that you drove anywhere before."

"It's a requirement as an Auror for instances like this where we have to transport someone to a Muggle location."

"Seems very Muggle to have to know how to drive a car," Emma muttered, resting her head against the window. She wanted to cry again, but she refused. "Seems very unlike you."

"It seems unlike me?"

Emma shrugged. "Dunno, driving a car seems beneath you, regardless of whether or not it's a job requirement."

"Yes, well, like I said – we all know how to drive a car."

"Does Sage?"

"No."

"Will Persephone or Caspian?"

"Perhaps if they decide they want to be Aurors."

Emma nodded, letting silence fall so that only the music playing could be heard. It had to be for the Wizarding Wireless Network as she didn't recognize a lot of the music playing. There was a vague mention of The Weird Sisters, which left Emma mildly confused, mixing it up with the Muggle band. It wasn't until she recognized a song by Celestina Warbeck that she realized her assumption was correct.

The further away they got from Swansea, the more annoyed Emma found herself getting. The entire situation was stupid, and she studied Ellis in the reflection of the rear-view mirror. It still seemed unreal that the man was working with Greyback on the side. Did Ellis know that he would be in the park waiting for her? Sirius said that the Aurors had gotten there quickly, and her stomach knotted painfully. Even if the other Aurors didn't know that Sirius was an Animagus, Ellis had to know. Even worse – if everything Remus had told her at Christmas, Ellis was the reason she was placed in Saint Nicholas's the first time.

"Tell me, Ellis, does this remind you of the first time you brought me up to Saint Nicholas's?" Emma asked, staring hard at Ellis as he looked back at her in the rear-view mirror, his eyes narrowing. "You know, taking me from Wales all the way up to York. Then again, you probably Apparated then."

"It's Auror Moon while I'm working," Ellis said tightly. "And what are you talking about?"

Emma pursed her lips slightly as she studied Ellis in the mirror. "Don't pretend as if I don't know, _Ellis_. I'm not stupid. You were friends with Jude. Did you think you were doing him a favor? Because Sirius gave away the location of where I was hidden, you could just swoop right in and take me when no one was around. I doubt anyone else would have had any sort of investment in trying to find me, so who else would it have been?"

"Why do you refer to Jude by his first name when he's your father?"

"That man is not my father."

"If it weren't for him, you wouldn't exist."

"If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be in this mess."

"No, that would be Remus's fault. And if you were with Jude, you wouldn't be such a petulant little brat."

"Me being honest makes me a brat? Is that what your problem is with me? You don't like that I say how things really are?"

"The problem is you have had absolutely no discipline. You are consistently free to run around and do whatever you please, dragging my daughter into dangerous stunts."

"See, here's the thing, Ellis. How can you say I'm dragging her into danger when she's the one insisting on it? I've been the one to tell her not to do things, but she's the one who insists. How can you say that when I know that you were with Greyback in May. With Persephone. You were with him back in November, too, weren't you?"

If they weren't on a highway, Emma was positive that Ellis would have slammed on the brakes. She almost wished that he would so she could run away. It didn't matter that she had no idea where they actually were. Someone would be able to help her.

"What would make you say such a thing?"

"I saw you and Greyback coming out of the Hog's Head back in May," Emma said, pulling back her sleeve to look at the scar from Greyback on her wrist. She ran a finger along the smooth skin with a hum. "Seemed like you came from the same direction when Greyback attacked me in Hogsmeade, actually. You were quite keen to leave if I recall. I'm assuming that I was never meant to know he was there, yeah?"

Ellis's eyes darkened, and Emma wondered briefly if she had gone too far. She didn't like the look in his eyes, and the smirk that crossed his face made her ill. Ellis was going to be a bigger problem than she thought.

"You know, I wonder…" Ellis said slowly, lifting a hand from the steering wheel to run his fingers over his mustache.

"Wonder what?" Emma asked shakily, looking out the window to try and figure out where they were. She wasn't even sure how long they had been in the car.

"If you recall what happens to little girls like you…"

Emma's eyes shot up to meet Ellis's in the mirror once more, and she felt herself immediately cow at the phrase. She had become ambivalent to Ellis, not caring one way or another about the man, but that very phrase terrified her. Why did he know that phrase? Who did it even originate from? He was the second person she had heard the words from. Why did it affect her the way that it did?

"Interesting," Ellis said, almost to himself as he returned his eyes to the road. It was the longest car ride of Emma's life.

Several hours had to have passed as Emma finally started to recognize some of the streets they passed. She didn't travel too far south of where the children's home was, but they usually went south on the rare occasion they had a field trip. Emma couldn't believe that she was heading back again, and her stomach pitted itself with dread the closer they got to Saint Nicholas's.

She thought she might be sick when they pulled up in front of the massive brick building. When she left the children's home three years prior, she never thought she would set foot there ever again. It felt like a sick joke after being so worried that Remus would bring her back, no longer wanting to deal with her. Knowing that Remus would never have done such a thing made the entire situation worse.

This was all Snape's fault.

Ellis turned the car off and stepped out to open Emma's door. She didn't even realize that she had been locked in the entire time until she tried the door herself. Her hope of escaping and running off straight to Upper Helmsley had been dashed the moment she made that discovery. It was even further squashed by Ellis's firm grip on her shoulder.

Emma's breath hitched as Ellis led her through the gate and in through the front door. Life in Saint Nicholas's seemed to have frozen in time. Everything looked exactly the same; there was still a scuff on the wall that Emma could recall from one of the boys running a toy car along it. The plain chandelier overhead looked the same, perhaps a touch cleaner than she remembered it last. There still weren't any portraits in the entryway, just plain white walls and white tiles.

She reluctantly allowed Ellis to lead her down the left hallway right off the entranceway. The staff rooms and Ward's office were in this direction. The first door on their right led to the living area for staff, a joint break room and overall living space with several bedrooms. At the end of the long hall that went by several windows led to Ward's office. All the way down the hall and to the immediate right through an archway opened into a relatively warm and cozy room.

On one wall was a fireplace with squashy couches across from it and a table. This was where most families met their children for the first time. Emma had sat in this very room several times before being passed over. At the time, it had stung Emma more than anything, but she was grateful that no one took her. She never would have had Remus if they did, and a life without her father just didn't make sense.

There was one final door left, and Emma frowned. Ward's office. She couldn't say she was too thrilled to see it. Emma was even less thrilled when Ellis knocked, and the door opened by itself. It was one of those things that she never would've questioned a few years prior, but seeing it now, it all made sense. Emma wondered idly what tiny bits of magic existed that she didn't realize. She would have to investigate.

Ward looked as though he didn't age a day, and Emma shifted Ellis's hand off her shoulder, taking a few steps away as Ward looked up.

"Ah, Nickels," he said, standing up. "We meet again."

"It's Lupin," Emma said sharply.

"Oh, Ellis warned me that you were going to be a problem," Ward said with a heavy sigh. "Your paperwork says Nickels, so that's who you're being brought back in as."

"She'll be easy to deal with by tomorrow night," Ellis said. "Worst case scenario, things are still the same."

"Are they? Well, Alexander will be interested to hear about that."

"Who is Alexander?" Emma asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

"No one you need to worry about," Ellis said sharply. "Need anything else from me, Broderick?"

"Not at all, Ellis. I can handle things from here," Ward said, extending his hand out and shaking hands with Ellis. "I'm sure that you're ready to head home."

Ellis looked down at his watch. "Yeah, just about done. I'll be leaving the car, and someone will pick it up overnight. Just need to clock out and head back to Sage and the kids. If you need anything, send an owl to the Ministry. I'm on call for the case along with two others." He gave Emma another look and left, leaving her to stand awkwardly where she was.

"Well, why don't you sit Nickels so we can go over a few things," Ward said, gesturing to the seats in front of him and sitting down. He returned briefly to whatever it was he was writing, the same brilliant quill Emma remembered in his hand.

Emma stared at him for a moment and sat down, holding her bag on her lap. "The last time I sat down here was for you to tell me I was leaving," Emma muttered, looking around. The office had little touches of magic. How had she never noticed the moving pictures before? Even one of the objects on the bookshelf was floating. The one set of glass cabinets clearly held potions ingredients. She found the spot where Ward's owl usually was and inclined her head towards it. "Why couldn't I bring my owl? Malachi have a problem with other owls?"

Ward looked over his shoulder at Malachi's perch and chuckled. "As a matter of fact, he does. Bit of a biter, you see."

"Seemed like it," Emma said, meeting Ward's gaze. She studied his face for a moment, taking in his facial hair and long hair. It was another one of those things she didn't question as a kid, but now it made sense. "Pure-blood?" she asked out of curiosity. Remus had mentioned to her that some Pure-blood men wore their hair long and commonly had facial hair similar to Ward's. She had noticed it a few times in Diagon Alley, and seeing Ward now made her curious.

"What gave it away?" Ward asked, setting his quill into his bottle of ink.

"The hair," Emma said with a slight shrug. She nodded to his quill. "Pheasant?"

"Rooster, actually."

Emma nodded slightly. "Fenrir bought me a quill that was supposedly from a Thunderbird," Emma said conversationally. "At Christmas. I think it's actually a fancy hippogriff feather, but I didn't buy it, so it's not a big deal to me."

Ward tensed up slightly, clasping his hands in front of himself. "Fenrir?"

"Greyback? You know him?" Emma asked with a good-natured smile.

"There aren't many who don't know Greyback," Ward said slowly, carefully.

Emma figured she was on a roll with digging herself into holes and decided to just keep going. "Interesting," Emma said just as slowly. "He gave me something that makes it seem as though you might be more familiar with Greyback than most."

"And what would he give you?"

"Nothing of importance," Emma said, crossing her leg with a sigh. She almost wished she had the photos Greyback gave her. "So, what do we need to talk about? Can't be too much different than the last time I was here." She tapped her temple and leaned forward. "Can't seem to remember too much, but I think I can recall the rules."

Ward's stare was intense, but Emma wasn't going to back down and held it. She would have beat Walsh in their staring contest earlier if Ellis didn't walk in. Emma had no doubt that she could beat Ward as well. She was nothing if not persistent.

"Well, after tomorrow night, it won't matter. Until you're moved again, you're going to go back to not remembering that magic even exists."

"Hmm, I don't think so," Emma said, crossing her arms. "I'm not going to lose anything else I've already lost. I'll be keeping my memories _and_ my magic, thanks."

"Is that so?"

"That's correct."

"We'll see about that," Ward chuckled darkly. "And how do you plan on keeping those for the duration you're here?"

"Just going to have to see about that, aren't we?"

Ward studied Emma closely and rolled his eyes. "Well, we'll certainly see, won't we?"

"Yep," Emma said, popping the p with a smile.

"Remember, everything that you do here, I can report back to the Ministry," Ward warned. "If you knew what was good for you, you would be a good girl."

Once again, Emma found herself cowed into silence, and she felt her resolve threaten to break. While the phrase wasn't the same, Emma recognized there was some hidden meaning behind it. She didn't like it, and she pulled herself in tightly. Ward seemed pleased. That didn't bode well for her at all.

"Uhm, where will I be staying?" Emma asked quietly.

"Well, lucky you, it's been requested that you get your own room. Unfortunately, the Ministry seems to agree and has deemed you unsafe for dorm living. That means you'll be down here on the first floor in one of the overnight rooms for staff."

"Lucky me, indeed," Emma muttered.

Ward studied Emma closely. "I don't want you here anymore than you want to be here."

"Why?" Emma asked, eyes narrowing slightly before she understood. Her anger was back in full force. "Oh, yes. Don't want to deal with the poor half-breed girl, yeah? The poor little half-werewolf girl gets her own room because she somehow can't live with her werewolf father. Makes perfect sense."

Pursing his lips, Ward stood up from behind his desk. "Wasn't aware that you were going to be a handful the moment you set foot back here. Oh, well," he said with a sigh. "Let me show you to your room."

Her temporary space left much to be desired. If she thought the dorms were bare, the overnight rooms were even worse. The bedroom she was provided was a very odd-shaped room, almost like two rectangles put together, one offset from the other. A bed was tucked into the corner immediately in front of the door, facing out. A set of double windows were to the bed's right, and a single-window was set into the wall around the corner. Emma felt there was no need for the room to have three windows, especially with absolutely no shades or curtains. That was going to be miserable. A dresser sat in the offset section of the room with a small mirror hanging on the wall. This was not going to be enjoyable.

"Curfew still until 9?" Emma asked, glancing over at the clock. She hiked her bag higher on her shoulder. There was no point in putting it down. There wasn't much to take out of it, and she felt much better carrying her entire life with her.

"Still 9."

"Excellent," Emma said, giving Ward a tight smile. "I've got three hours, then. I'll be back."

"One second past 9, and it gets reported to the Ministry, remember that Nickels."

"That's not my name!" Emma shouted back as she made her way through the living area. If she was going to be stuck in Saint Nicholas's, she would at least try and figure out how to make it enjoyable.

Her first order of business was to try and see if there was anywhere in York she could borrow an owl. Remus would be up for some mischief-making, she hoped. As the daughter of two Marauders, she certainly was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	5. Full Circle

Walking the streets of her past felt strange. Each step seemed to take her further and further back in time. She had never bothered to show Remus any of her time in the children's home, never showed him her primary school or the places she used to go. It felt strange that even her memories of the area were as vague as they were, unable to pick out specific moments. The only thing that struck her was the café and the park.

Almost as if she were compelled to, Emma found herself walking towards the café. Her initial plan was to see if there was an owl post location somewhere, but she didn't want to get lost. She had to relearn the area all over again. At least she could make it to the café and the park and back to Saint Nicholas with no issue.

She stood outside of it for a few minutes, debating on whether or not to go in. There was another, newer café that she could go to that she had passed, but she continued past it. With a sigh, Emma decided to take the chance. She had a bit of money to play with, and after the day she had, a treat sounded perfect.

Walking into the café was like transporting herself back into that very memory. Nothing had changed. The only thing that seemed to have changed was herself, several inches taller than her eight-year-old self, and the workers. It was the same glass case, same coffee machines, same tables…it felt surreal. Such a significant moment in time when she was younger had meant so much in the future. With a quiet laugh of disbelief, Emma realized she found herself silently rehearsing her order so she didn't stutter. Perhaps she hadn't changed that much, either.

"What can I get for ya?" the cashier asked, staring at Emma expectantly.

This cashier was a lot different than the one she remembered, but that wasn't surprising. She hadn't stepped foot in the café in six years. The blonde teenage boy didn't appear that much older than her. He almost reminded her of Neville, slightly round-faced but lacking the hidden sweetness that Neville had. She regarded the boy for a moment. Should _she_ get a job? Was she even old enough to get a job? It wouldn't be a terrible idea to work, especially since she wasn't sure how long she would be stuck where she was. If she wasn't old enough, could she get away with a wandless Confundus charm? Was she even powerful enough to cast one without a wand?

"Miss?"

Emma blinked owlishly at the boy for a moment before feeling the backs of her ears turn red. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said sheepishly, pulling out her change purse from her bag. "I'll, uhm…You know what, I'll take a blueberry scone and a small hot chocolate, please." It wasn't at all what she wanted, but it seemed fitting. The memory wouldn't be exactly the same, but it made her feel better. If only Remus were there.

"Odd choice for such a hot day," the boy said, giving Emma a funny look.

"Yes, well, I would really like a blueberry scone and a hot chocolate," Emma said tightly. "So, if you don't mind." She gave her change purse an expectant rattle with a mildly annoyed grin.

The boy pursed his lips and gave Emma a once over. "That'll be four Pounds seventy-five."

"Right," Emma said. Prices had gone up, she noted as she opened her coin purse and flipped it over into her hand. She started to pick out the coins she needed before feeling her entire body grow hot. Emma had enough money for her purchase…if she was in Diagon Alley.

She stared in confusion at the single Galleon, several Sickles, and even more Knuts in her hand. Remus very specifically had swapped out her money a few weeks before leaving Hogwarts, wanting to have one less thing to do when they got home. How did she have wizarding currency again?

"How much was it again?"

Emma had to bite her lip hard to keep from bursting into tears. How had he even known where to find her? She was very curious to know, and if she'd learned anything from the stories she heard from Remus and Sirius, it was that the Marauders were clever.

She felt the tell-tale pricks of tears in her eyes, but she was determined not to cry in the middle of the café. Even without a Time-Turner, she was flung back in time, and she was standing right where she was, eight years old, almost nine, not fourteen nearly fifteen. Emma desperately wanted to turn her head to look, but she knew she would break if she did. Instead, she settled on the embarrassing quiver of her chin.

The boy seemed momentarily confused and repeated the total. A fiver was placed down on the counter with a "Keep the change."

Her father was a ridiculous man. She should have known that he would do something like this, and something told her to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary. For right now, he had to be a random and helpful stranger, just like he was in her past. It was enough to make her feel infinitely better.

A small smile crossed her face as the familiar weight of Remus's hand touched her shoulder. "I'm not quite sure that money works here, miss. Might be best to get that exchanged," Remus whispered in her ear. "And if you're looking for somewhere to go, I hear the park is lovely this time of year." A noise, half-dry sob, half-laugh escaped her lips, and she nodded. Remus lifted his hand from her shoulder to brush the back of his fingers against her cheek and left.

Emma stepped out of the queue to let the next person in line order, and she looked out the large front windows just as Remus looked in as he walked past. He gave her a cheeky grin with a wink and continued on his way. Waiting for her treat was going to be a far more excruciating wait than she wanted it to be.

The moment Emma had her hot chocolate and scone, she was out the door and heading towards the park. She stuffed her scone in her bag – she would have it later and burned her tongue on her still scalding hot chocolate. It didn't matter to her – all she cared about was making it to the park. If she was right, she knew exactly where to find her father – most likely at one of the benches that dotted the lake area. She picked up speed the moment she stepped through the gates.

When Emma made it down the ramp into the park, she looked around excitedly and immediately frowned, not seeing Remus. That didn't seem right when he told her to go to the park. She stepped a little further into the park, not understanding where he could be, and she could've hit herself in the head. He was right in front of her, just not facing her.

Across the lake and through an open-air building was a small flower garden that Emma was sure once held water before being filled in. Remus was busy looking at the flowers, hands in his pockets. She could feel the threat of tears again, but this time she didn't stop them as she crossed the bridge. Remus turned around just as she made it through the building, and she froze, staring at him as if he wasn't real. After how her day had gone thus far, she wouldn't have been surprised if it was all just a trick. It seemed he felt the same way, staring back as if he wasn't entirely sure what to think.

"Oh, bugger," Emma muttered the moment she noticed tears in his eyes. It only made her start to cry harder, all hopes of not crying anymore that day thrown out the window, but she didn't care. She set her things down and made a running leap into Remus's arms, throwing her arms tightly around his neck when he caught her. Emma swore her heart would explode out of pure happiness at being reunited with her father. She held onto him tightly, glad that he didn't seem to want to let go of her either. She was afraid that if she did, he would disappear. Emma wasn't about to make the same mistake of letting him go before she was ready for him to leave ever again.

"What are you doing?" Emma managed to say when her crying finally slowed long enough that she could breathe. "Won't you get in trouble for this? Isn't this dangerous?"

"They only watch what I'm doing at night," Remus said, kissing Emma's cheek. "I know, it doesn't make sense to me either, but it shows how much ignorance there is," he added when Emma leaned back just enough to look at him. "Just as long as we're careful, this will be fine. Besides, I'm a Marauder – this is the sort of thing I live for. If I'm not actively trying to break laws just to spend time with my daughter, I'm not doing a good job as a father or Marauder."

Remus set Emma down and very delicately pulled Emma's arms from around his neck, chuckling softly at her noise of distress. He bent down, carefully wiped away Emma's tears with his thumbs, and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "Oh, Merlin, I have missed you."

"I've missed you far more," Emma said, leaning into his touch as he ran a hand through her hair. "I've had a bit of a day."

"So I've heard. Sirius stopped at the house and updated me before having to leave again," Remus said dryly. "You cut your hair?"

"I had Papa cut it for me," Emma laughed. "It was too long for me to deal with."

Remus hummed in agreement, running his hand through her hair once more before straightening up. "It was getting long. I noticed it when I realized how much your fringe grew out last month. I figured there was a reason you stopped complaining about your fringe, and it was startling to see just how long it had gotten."

"Do you hate it?" Emma asked, slightly nervous as she reached back to touch the ends of her hair. She hadn't had her hair that short in such a long time that she wondered if it looked silly.

"Shorter hair suits you, but you look beautiful no matter what," Remus said with a soft smile. "It just terrifies me because it makes me realize how much older you look. You are growing up far too fast for me."

"I feel like I have, just from today," Emma said dryly. She reached her hand up to brush a new patch of grey in Remus's hair that wasn't there the last time she saw him. "How did you know where I was going to be?"

"Let's grab your things and go sit. We have a lot to talk about."

Emma couldn't figure out what was more bizarre. She wasn't sure if it was being in a place that held such pivotal moments or being there with Remus with their current circumstances. Almost as if it was second nature, they both made their way to a bench they had apparently frequented and decided to find a different one. It would be _their_ bench.

She felt so much better, far more content under Remus's arm where she belonged. For a brief moment, she felt optimistic, and she felt so incredibly loved tucked into Remus's side.

"There is absolutely no way that you were doing the same thing I was," Emma laughed through a mouthful of scone.

"I swear to you, I was shocked to see you. I had just been by to make sure you were dropped off at the home and left when I saw the Ministry car," Remus said, breaking off a piece of scone as Emma held it out. He popped it in his mouth with a small shrug. "Can't say that I was too upset about running into you."

"Clearly not since you played a horrible trick on me," Emma said, poking his side. "Still can't believe you managed to swap out my money that quickly."

"You were very much lost in thought. Wasn't too hard to do," Remus said. "And since my need to remain professional only has to extend so far now, I felt it would be worth it."

"It's a good thing I love you," Emma pouted. "After how my day's been, I might have burst into tears. Nearly did anyway, and it still would have been your fault."

"I know, I'm sorry," Remus sighed, leaning down to kiss the top of Emma's head. "I thought about it afterward and went to fix what I'd done, but you had already gone into your bag."

"You wouldn't have let me know you were there?"

"I would have, just not quite like that, actually. Just wound up turning out the way it did, and I went along with it."

Emma sighed, laying her head on Remus's shoulder. "What's been going on? I feel like I know nothing. It's just been two and a half weeks of silence. I know that's not your fault at all, but…"

"There has been a lot going on behind the scenes," Remus said after a moment. "It's been…it's been difficult. As much as I have wanted you home, I have to admit it's been better that you haven't been around for most of what's happened. There have been quite a few things that I certainly didn't need you exposed to, so I'll take the small miracles I've been given."

"What do you mean?"

"That you, fy nghariad bach, probably would have gotten hurt." Emma tilted her head up to look up at Remus questioningly, and he sighed, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. "It's nothing for you to worry about. I'm fine now."

"Which means you weren't fine before. What did they do to you?"

"It doesn't matter," Remus said lightly. "I'm with you now, I know where you are, and that's all that matters."

"You're not telling me things again," Emma frowned.

"It's not that. I promised you that I wouldn't keep things from you, and I'm not going to break that promise. There's something vital you need to know, but I'm trying to figure out where to start before I get to it."

"Oh," Emma said quietly, letting herself relax slightly. "Well, as you told me for nearly a straight year, just pick anywhere."

Remus chuckled softly, pulling Emma a little tighter. "It was a struggle to get you back up here. We all knew that the Ministry wouldn't agree to let you come home, and we didn't want you anywhere else. Dumbledore's had to do most of the talking for me. I knew that you weren't going to be happy about finding out where you were going, but I hope you're not too upset. I was the one suggested it."

"You're why I went back to Saint Nicholas's?"

"It was incredibly selfish of me," Remus said guiltily. "I just knew that if I had any chance of being with you at all, it was going to be here. I didn't think you'd be thrilled with being in London, even if it would've been less stressful than being here."

Emma shook her head. "I can't be too mad about that. I feel better about everything knowing that I can see you. It's not home, but home is where you are, anyway. And…everything is fine with you? You're not…they won't? With you?"

"No, no," Remus said, immediately understanding Emma's unasked question and wrapping his arms around her tightly. "You don't have to worry about them doing anything worse than they've already done to me. I'm not going anywhere. Other than somehow kidnapping my own daughter, I've done nothing. I'm thirty-four and have a bloody curfew like a child for the next year or until everything is settled, but it's fine. I've gone through worse."

Emma felt tears fill her eyes from relief. If this was how they had to deal with things, she didn't care. It wasn't the perfect situation in the least, but this was fine. This was nothing compared to losing ten years together. All that mattered to Emma was that she wouldn't lose him entirely.

"Hey, no more crying on me," Remus said, rubbing Emma's back.

"I'm just…that's all I've been worried about," Emma said, wiping at her eyes. "I don't know what I would have done if something happened to you."

"I'm not going to lie; I was worried about it myself. I didn't know until last night that they weren't going to take things further. Dumbledore has been doing a lot of damage control for us, but we're not completely out of the woods yet."

"This is…this is good, right? All of this?"

"It's as good as it's going to get for now," Remus admitted. "Not perfect, but this is temporary, just like everything else. You act as if I wouldn't do anything for you."

"I know you would. Made that quite obvious at the Shack and absolutely terrified me, mind you," Emma sighed, frowning slightly. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? Sorry for what? I'm the one who's incredibly sorry. I wasn't thinking rationally at all."

Emma shook her head with a quiet laugh. "Sorry for basically being the human equivalent of a leach and always wanting to be with you."

"Merlin, Emma, I'm delighted that you want to spend time with me," Remus laughed. "I was so worried that we weren't ever going to have the relationship that we do because I was an absolute arse. I love spending time with you, not just because you're my daughter, but because of who you are as a person. Do you remember what I told you at the beginning of the term before seeing Dumbledore?"

"Barely," Emma admitted. "Everything became a bit of a blur after Halloween…"

"I told you that you're my best friend," Remus said fondly. "I still mean that. You are such an incredible and strong girl and a very talented witch. I'm very lucky."

"You still say that even though you have Papa?"

"Yes, even though I have him," Remus said, leaning down to press his forehead to Emma's with a smile. "I like you much better," he added, rubbing his nose against hers.

"Am I allowed to say I like you better, too?" Emma asked sheepishly.

"It'll be our little secret," Remus said, tickling Emma's sides. He didn't torture Emma with his tickling for very long before he sighed. For a moment, they were an average family just spending time together in a park. They weren't separated and didn't have to worry about when they would see each other next. "Speaking of secrets, I couldn't bring you anything big, but I do have something from home for you. I think you'll be pleased to see it."

Emma separated herself from Remus and watched him curiously as he stood up and reached into his pocket. She let out a quiet gasp and held out her hands as Remus pulled out a very familiar-looking leather book.

"That's the smile I love to see," Remus said happily, placing the book in Emma's hands and sitting back down.

"First of all, I do not understand how you even fit this in your pocket," Emma said, casting Remus an amused look and turning her attention to the notebook. She flipped through the book and frowned at the still blank pages. "And how am I supposed to use this without a wand?"

"I think you'll find that speaking our oath will grant you access," Remus said with a wink. "And I dare say that we'll be following said oath fairly often."

"Really? Can I try?" Emma asked excitedly. "Just to make sure?"

"I would never dare deprive you of such a thing."

Emma flipped open the book to the first page. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," she said quietly, leaning into Remus with a squeal of pure delight when writing appeared. She flipped through the pages happily. Every conversation they ever had was right there, just as it should. "Mischief managed," she said when she was content that everything was exactly how it should be. Her smile only grew when the letters disappeared, but it faltered when she looked up and saw that Remus had something else in his hand.

"Why did you bring _that_ quill?" Emma asked, not at all happy to see the quill that Greyback bought her.

"Because I think you're going to need all the help you can get."

"What does that mean?" Emma asked, brow furrowing as she took the quill. She noticed that Remus had switched the ink from red to dark blue. At least it was self-inking so she wouldn't need an ink bottle. There was a strong possibility that Remus had charmed it so that she wouldn't need ink for a long while.

"I mean that I'm unfortunately not going to be of much use to you," Remus said gravely. "I'll be here, but I'm limited in what I can do for you. All I can do is guide you as best as possible with your decisions, but you have no wand; you're very unprotected. I'm not taking any chances, and the more in favor you are with certain parties, the better. Greyback is going to keep a very close eye on you now."

Emma stared at Remus for a moment, trying to put together the things he wasn't saying, and she looked at the quill in her hand. "How is Papa, anyway? I didn't really get to talk to him. He just…he came back, and then he had to go," she said quietly, twisting the quill in her hands.

"Relatively all right, all things considered. Apparently, the Aurors were there very quickly," Remus sighed. "He was incredibly reckless. I know that he did what he did so you could escape, but it could have been much more dangerous than it was."

"He's been locked up for a long time," Emma replied after a moment. "After how I was the other night, he probably felt he needed to prove himself."

"Don't you dare blame yourself for that either. I've heard you've been doing an awful lot of that lately. None of this is your fault."

"It feels like it," Emma sniffled. "If I had just –"

"Emma…it will never be your fault. This could have just as easily have happened at any other time," Remus said, turning himself to face Emma and cupping her face with his hands. "It's only sheer luck that no one has said a word. All it would have taken was Ellis saying something at the Ministry. It's not as if he didn't know."

"Still…What if Ellis says that Sirius is an Animagus?"

Remus considered it for a moment. "I don't think that Ellis knows that, even if Persephone does. I think…that her loyalty is skewed. She obviously knows more than she should, but I don't think that Ellis knows everything."

"You think that Greyback has been feeding her information?"

"There's a strong possibility when he knows you two were so close," Remus admitted.

"Before everything happened…before my Divination final, Persephone told me that Greyback wasn't happy about me knowing – at first. She said that he has plans on how to get me…"

"I have no doubt that there's truth to that, but I don't think anyone would anticipate what has happened."

Emma tried to think about everything Persephone had said that day. "She said that he was frustrated that something had changed, and he wants me aware of what's going on. And that I'm going to need help. She mentioned that he's not working alone, but it's more than just Ellis."

Remus frowned at that. "That means he's going to ignore whatever plan was there in the first place," he said, rubbing his jaw. "Which means this could change why he wants to talk to you. It's not any less dangerous, but if he wants you to know what's happening, there's more at stake. I think he was going to you to try and recruit you."

"Recruit me for what exactly?"

"The pack…"

Emma stared blankly at her father, trying to let that information settle in. "What am I supposed to do with that information? I would never."

"I wouldn't want you to, and I'm not entirely sure that's what he would be doing, but it's a possibility," Remus admitted. "He didn't put up much of a fight with Sirius…"

"But what does that mean?" Emma asked, tucking her notebook and quill in her bag. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do now."

"Tread very carefully," Remus said. "Any scrap of information you get, you tell me the moment that you are safe. I don't care what time of day it is. I will always have my book with me, and Elara has essentially moved in for the time being. Someone is always up, so it shouldn't take long for me to reply."

Emma nodded slowly. "Fenrir asked me what my wolf's name is..."

Remus's lips pressed in a thin line. "That means he already knows."

"How does he know if I never told him?" Emma asked nervously. "I don't like that."

"These were all things that I wanted to sit down and explain to you," Remus sighed, looking at his watch again. "What time do you need to be back?"

"By 9. You?"

"The same, and it's getting late. It's not a long walk back, is it?"

"From here? Not terrible. I always used to get back just before I needed to be back in."

Remus stood up slowly and pulled Emma up with him and into his arms. "Before we part, there are a few essential things you need to know. First and foremost, do not trust Ward."

"I figured that one already…I have a bad feeling about him."

"Good," Remus said, squeezing Emma tighter. "You should. Assume that almost everything you do in view at the children's home is being monitored. The only real safe place you'll have is out in public, but we have to be careful with that. We can't meet every day, not here at least, but I've got a plan for that."

"Wouldn't be a Marauder if you didn't have a plan," Emma said with a slight giggle.

"Right you are, my dear. The next thing I'm going to tell you is going to be one of your highest priorities. Whatever you do, do not eat or drink anything while in the home. That comes directly from Dumbledore – he has his doubts. You're going to have to get creative with that."

"I think those doubts are correct. Ward and Ellis both mentioned me…not being a problem by tomorrow night, but I'm not touching anything," Emma said quietly, holding onto Remus a little tighter when he tensed up. "What about taking a shower? Brushing my teeth? Whatever they were using couldn't be in the water supply, could it?"

"I'm not sure. Where did they place you?"

"I've got my own room in the staff quarters, not in the dorms."

Remus was quiet as he considered the possibilities. "That might change things, but that means your room should be another safe place for you. I'll try and get some information for you, which means you need to keep an eye on your book. I'm sure it goes without saying, but –"

"Keep it with me at all times," Emma said, looking up at Remus knowingly. "I would never let it out of my sight. Ever. I remember the rules you gave me in the first place. I'll keep it secret. And what about Greyback?"

"This is at the same level as what you do in the home – you must be careful. He was testing you by asking to know Soleil's name. I guarantee he'll approach you again. If he asks you for her name, give it. Don't let him find a reason to alter things further."

"I don't like this," Emma muttered, pulling away from Remus with a frown. "All of this seems wrong."

"I don't like it either. I have more that I need to tell you, but I'll have to write it out. There's not nearly enough time," Remus said. "But I have a few more things for you." He reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet. To Emma's absolute horror, he shoved way more money than she ever expected into her hands. "You're going to need this. What you had before wasn't going to get you far."

"No, absolutely not," Emma said, trying to hand the money back to Remus. "With how things are, you need this more than I do."

"Not all of it is from me. Since I can't give you any of your things, I want to make sure you have something other than the same three things to wear."

"If it's not all from you…"

"Let me just say that Elara is quite aggravated that a teenage girl has been forced to live on the same items of clothing. I have been assured multiple times that er, certain pieces are sure to not be that comfortable."

"Oh," Emma said, flushing slightly. "She's not wrong…"

"Hold up your arm for me," Remus said as he undid his watch.

"Now what are you doing?" Emma asked curiously.

"Giving you your seventeenth birthday gift very early. Suppose it doesn't matter as young women don't typically get watches when they come of age," Remus said as he fastened his watch around Emma's wrist. "However, as you are a daughter and not a son, I thought it would be best for you to receive both gifts. You need it far more than I do, and I did say that I was getting you a watch."

"But it's _your_ watch," Emma said, looking at it with a slight frown. "Take it back."

"Not anymore. I knew it was going to be yours the moment you came back into my life," Remus said firmly. "It's _yours_. I have another I can use in the meantime. Besides, I think you need the reminder of where your real home will always be."

"Thank you," Emma said quietly, hugging Remus tightly. "I don't want to go back…"

"I know," Remus said, peppering the top of Emma's head with kisses. "I want to take you back with me so badly. I know that this is hard, but you are the strongest and the bravest person I know, and I will never stop reminding you of that. We're going to get through this."

"We always do."

On sheer principle, Emma refused to step foot back into Saint Nicholas's until just seconds before 9PM. Ward was waiting at the door, a scowl on his face, but didn't say a word. There was nothing he could say except to inform Emma her room's door would be locked at night. Emma could care less, especially since she had her notebook.

She was glad that Remus was more than willing to stay up with her. Emma described her empty room and decided to draw him a sketch of the room. Remus was less than thrilled by the lack of curtains.

' _It's the same way in the dorms_ ,' Emma wrote to him. ' _It wasn't bad when I had the bottom bunk because I could make my own curtain. When Jocelyn made me take the top bunk, I couldn't. I'll get used to it._ '

Emma stretched herself out, looking around the room with a yawn. She had been in the same position for a few hours, leaning back against the wall on her bed. It seemed important to watch underneath her door, despite it being locked, and the windows. She peered outside her windows, closing her eyes as a breeze rolled in. It was tempting to fall asleep, even with the bright overhead light, but she still wanted to continue talking to her father. ' _There's still so much I need to tell you_ ,' Emma scrawled out, scratching her nose with the feather end of her quill. ' _I never got to tell you everything that Persephone told me.'_

' _I know, but It's getting late, sweetheart. You really should try and go some rest._ '

Emma stared at Remus's last message with a frown. She wasn't sure how much sleep she would really be getting.

' _I know I saw you a bit ago, but I miss you,_ ' she wrote back sadly.

' _I miss you, too, love. Now go to bed. You can bother me in the morning._ '

' _It is the morning._ '

' _Ha. Rest, fy nghariad. Daylight will come before you know it._ '

Emma snorted as she imagined the look on Remus's face, one mixed with sheer disbelief at her cheek and fondness. She could see it very clearly in her mind, and it made her heart ache just a little bit more.

' _Fine,_ ' she wrote. _'But only if you promise that you're going to bed, too.'_

' _I can go to bed when you stop writing to me.'_

' _Pushy, you are. Nos da, Dad. I love you.'_

' _Nos da fy nghariad bach. Rwy'n dy garu di.'_

"Mischief managed," Emma muttered, watching as their words faded with a sad smile. She looked over at the clock she had been provided and let out a small groan, stretching out her cramped fingers. They had been writing to each other since 10, and it was two in the morning. It would be so much easier if they had a different way of communicating.

Emma slid off her bed with a slight whine, stretching out her body and her stiff muscles. She should have moved from where she was at some point, but she was too engrossed in their conversation to care. Now that she was standing, she was very aware of how tight her leg muscles were, and it did not feel pleasant. She tucked the notebook and quill under her pillow and made her way to her bag to pull out something to change into. It seemed that just a tee shirt and knickers were on the agenda for the night. She would have to go out and find a launderette somewhere, preferably after she had purchased some new clothes. Emma had no desire to let someone else wash her clothes for her.

Remus had given her far more money than she ever expected to carry around. It made her nervous about having so much money. It was meant to be enough for essentials and to create a small stockpile of food for herself. He told her that he would add a feather-light charm to her bag once she got things situated clothes-wise. It was imperative that she didn't leave any of her food around to be tampered with, and she agreed. However long she was stuck at Saint Nicholas's would be way too long with everything she needed to do.

She started to take off Remus's watch and paused for a moment before deciding to leave it on. Her heart would break if she lost it, and it wasn't uncomfortable to wear. With a sigh, she undid her jeans and started to shimmy out of them until something drew Soleil's attention. With a soft gasp, Emma's head whirled around to look out the window. She couldn't see anything, but that meant nothing, especially if Soleil was the one providing a warning. Curious, Emma reached over to the light switch and turned out the light. Having the light out didn't provide her with any additional information as nothing seemed out of place.

"Shut up, I know. I can't do anything about it," Emma muttered to herself, rubbing her forehead at the start of the headache she was getting.

With a huff, Emma turned around to keep her back towards the window, casting furtive glances over her shoulder as she took off her jeans. She stared at the shirt she was going to change into and decided to keep Remus's jumper on. At least it was long enough to keep her covered. At the very least, she could pull the shirt she had on underneath the jumper off while still remaining covered. It required some effort, but at least she would be comfortable.

Emma climbed back into bed slowly, staring out the window for a moment. She still didn't see anything, but her eyes were still entirely human. As helpful as it would probably be, she didn't possess the optical power of a werewolf. Still, she had no doubts as to who was there.

"Good night, Fenrir," Emma said, settling into bed and lying down, keeping a hold on her notebook underneath her pillow. It had been a very long day. The moment her head hit the pillow, she fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	6. The Big Bad Wolf

Emma was startled awake by a sharp knocking on her door. She lifted her head to stare at the door, unsure of whether she imagined it until she heard Ward's voice through the door.

"Nickels! Get up! This isn't a holiday, and you have a visitor!"

A visitor? Emma rubbed her eyes, sitting up slowly with a scowl.

"Nickels! If you don't get up, then someone is coming in."

"Bloody hell," Emma grumbled. "I'm up!" she shouted back, flopping back down on the mattress. She turned her head to look over at the clock on the dresser and frowned at what looked like a rock sitting right next to it. Something about the stone triggered something in her mind, but she wasn't sure what it was. It definitely wasn't there when she went to bed. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she glanced at the clock. It was nearly noon. It had been a very long time since Emma had slept in so late.

"Are you actually getting up?" Ward shouted through the door. "I don't hear any movement in there."

"I'm getting up! Buggering fuck."

" _Language Nickels_."

"It's Lupin!" Emma said grumpily, making the act of getting out of bed as noisy as she possibly could. "Happy?!"

"Don't keep your visitor waiting," Ward said gruffly. "They're in the reception room."

"Merlin's saggy tits," Emma grumbled, reaching under her pillow to grab her notebook. She smiled when she felt that it was warm, which meant that Remus wrote to her. It was one of the modifications that they added, and Emma was thrilled that Remus helped her with the spell-work for it. It made her feel like one of the Marauders coming up with her very first spell.

' _I hope you slept well, sweetheart. I know that you have trouble sleeping when you're somewhere new, but I hope you were tired enough that you slept.'_

A little further down – ' _I guess you were exhausted as you haven't written back to me yet. Professor Dumbledore is coming to speak to you later._ '

And one that Emma was noted with the time written down – ' _It's quarter after eleven. I sincerely hope that you're just sleeping. Write back as soon as you see this_.'

Not wanting to have Remus worry any more than he probably already was, Emma plucked the quill out from underneath her pillow. ' _Sorry, just woke up – not too kindly, might I add. I'm fine – was just absolutely knackered. Yesterday took more out of me than I thought._ '

Emma set the notebook and quill down, ran over to the windows to make sure no one was close by, and changed as quickly as she could. She watched as Remus wrote out his next message quickly. He had clearly been watching the notebook all day.

' _Merlin, you had me worried. Is Dumbledore there yet?_ '

' _I think he is since Ward came slamming on my door to wake me up._ '

' _Good. Don't keep Dumbledore waiting. He was here earlier._ '

' _Can we meet later?_ '

' _Short answer – yes. Don't keep him waiting. When you're done with Dumbledore, head back to the café – Elle will be waiting. I love you._ '

That was enough to put some pep into Emma's sour mood. ' _I love you, too_ ,' she wrote back quickly before clearing the notebook. With a grin, Emma picked up her bag, slinging the strap over her shoulder. She reached in and tossed the rest of her clothes into one of the drawers in the dresser. Emma looked up and stared at the rock for a moment, slowly picking it up and running her thumb over the smooth edges. There was something familiar about having the rock, and a slight frown crossed her face as she looked at her open windows. The odd window around the corner seemed a little more open than the others.

There was another sharp knock on Emma's door. "NICKELS!"

"I'll be five minutes, shitting hell!" Emma shouted, shoving the rock into her pocket.

" _LANGUAGE!_ "

Emma ripped open her door to glare at Ward, not at all surprised to find he was glaring back. "In case you've forgotten, my room has been locked all bloody night. If you'll excuse me, I would like to use the toilet before meeting whoever is here, thanks."

Ward stared hard at Emma for a moment before stepping away, gesturing pointedly to the shower room. Emma shot Ward a glare and crossed the space to the other room. It was going to be a very, very long day.

With how things were going, Emma was almost afraid that it wouldn't be Dumbledore waiting in the reception room. It was nice to see such a familiar face in such a terrible place.

"Professor Dumbledore, I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long," Emma said with a small smile.

Dumbledore turned to look at Emma with a smile, reaching into his robe to pull out his pocket watch. "I believe you're just on time. Sit, I brought breakfast for you, although I suppose it will be lunch now."

"Sorry," Emma said, sitting down on one of the sofas. She looked at the bag in front of her and looked at Dumbledore questioningly. He gave a nod, and Emma pulled it close, opening it with a grin. "You saw my dad before coming here?" she asked, pulling out an egg and bacon sandwich. It made her wonder how much baking her father had done, but she wasn't going to complain.

"He thought you would appreciate home cooking," Dumbledore said, sitting down on the couch opposite. "Especially, considering –"

"Professor Dumbledore, is there anything you need from me?" Ward asked as he stepped back into the room, looking much less irate than he had earlier. His eyes flicked over to the sandwich in Emma's hands, the muscle in his jaw jumping slightly as he returned his gaze to Dumbledore.

"Ah, Broderick, I don't believe that I do. If you don't mind, I'm going to let Emma eat, and then I'll be on my way."

Dumbledore's dismissal was plain, but Ward still lingered. He looked between Emma and Dumbledore for a moment, gave a tight nod, and made his way into his office. Dumbledore waited a moment before casting a silencing spell.

"There," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Now we should have no interruptions."

"I'm assuming that you don't want him to hear what you're going to tell me?" Emma asked curiously.

"Your assumption would be very correct," Dumbledore said brightly. "Now, I can't say much due to the nature of things, but we are working on getting you moved again."

"Again?" Emma asked, mildly distressed at the idea of moving again, until a glimmer of hope bubbled up. "Back home?"

"Unfortunately, no," Dumbledore said, his smile sympathetic. "But ideally, we would like you somewhere that's more…accessible."

"Accessible?"

"Meaning you have all of your things and the ability to see your father almost any time you'd like."

The bit of hope she had was swept away. "I want to go home," Emma said quietly. "No one is saying that I'm going to be able to go home…"

"You will, but it's going to take some time. It certainly won't be before the term begins."

"I'll be allowed to come back to Hogwarts?" Emma asked. "I thought that –"

"You are _not_ a werewolf, and as long as I am Headmaster, you will always have a place at Hogwarts. You're a talented witch, and anyone who can outwit their father in a game of his creation deserves to continue their education."

"It was luck," Emma said quietly.

"It was skill," Dumbledore corrected with a soft chuckle. "Remus did say that you always downplay your talents."

"My father is a very kind man who thinks far too highly of his daughter."

"I assure you that he would have thought highly of you regardless of whether or not you were his daughter. Remus always could find the best in others and bring out those traits. It's a quality that he passed on to you. It'll be why reuniting you two will be that much easier."

Emma considered Dumbledore for a moment and shook her head. "I don't understand."

"What I mean to say is that people need convincing. It's not just the Ministry that feels that the right decision was made. All people see in the Daily Prophet is a werewolf attacked by someone who has purposely made it their goal to be known for savagery. It doesn't look good from an outsider's perspective. You can understand that, yes?"

"I do, but that doesn't make it right. I mean, Dad is the furthest away from being anything like Greyback. I like to tease him for folding his socks. I hardly doubt that anyone who really knew him could ever think he's anything but kind."

"And that's what you need to convince people of. All they're seeing is a werewolf and an impressionable teenage girl, rumored to be kidnapped. They don't see that there's an incredible bond between a father and daughter who learned to love and love fiercely. You two have overcome so much over the past few years. You should be proud of what you two have accomplished."

"At the expense of hurting each other along the way," Emma said sadly. She looked at the sandwich in her hand and frowned at it. "I've been terrible to him in the past. If I could take so much back, I would."

"Ah, but then we would never learn from our mistakes," Dumbledore said, standing up. "Families are complicated, Emma. Things in our world will be changing sooner rather than later, and I think we could all use a little hope. It's not going to be easy to bring you two back together. People are going to have a lot to say, and we're going to do our best to shield you from it, but things will slip through the cracks."

"I don't care," Emma said earnestly. "I would do absolutely anything to be back with Dad. I don't care what it is, and I don't care what people say. I know that it's going to be hard. I figured it would be difficult when I decided I wanted to help other werewolves."

Dumbledore nodded, a slight smile on his face. "I can assume that I don't need to inform you of what you need to do while you're here?"

"I know what I need to do."

"Excellent. Another thing to mention – no one here is allowed to go through your things. You might be considered a ward of the Ministry, but I'm serving as your guardian for most matters. I promise that I am doing my very best to get things sorted. Acceptance letters will go out soon. If you find one of the children receives their letter, try and take them under your wing. Perhaps Professor McGonagall would be willing to bring you on the journey to Diagon Alley. I do hear that you need a new wand…"

"But Dad has my old wand, and I was hoping that Mr. Ollivander could fix it for me."

"No one said that he couldn't just so happen to be in Diagon Alley at the same time," Dumbledore said with a wink. "I'm afraid that I must head out, and I daresay that you appear to be on your way out as well. Perhaps we'll meet again before the term begins."

"Perhaps," Emma said quietly. "Thank you, Professor Dumbledore."

Dumbledore smiled and started to leave. He paused in the entryway and turned back to Emma. "Your father and I have talked about it a few times, and for what it's worth, you would have made a wonderful Gryffindor. Hufflepuff earned a wonderful member to its house with you." He pulled his wand out and gave it a quick wave. "Until we meet again, Emma."

Emma sighed as she watched Dumbledore leave and peered back in the bag, delighted to see that she had missed a bottle of pumpkin juice. To her amusement, there was a bar of chocolate hidden – one of her favorite dark chocolate bars from Honeydukes. It appeared Remus more than understood her need for little bits of magic.

"Dumbledore left?"

Emma's gaze shot up to meet Ward in the doorway and frowned, tucking everything into her bag. "He did," Emma said, opening the bottle of pumpkin juice and taking a drink with a delighted hum.

"You're not supposed to have that, you know," Ward said, staring pointedly at the bottle of pumpkin juice.

"Have what?" Emma asked, pretending she had no idea what he was referring to. She shoved the bottle into her bag. "It's apple juice."

"Funny looking apple," Ward said, an eyebrow arching. "Didn't know apples were orange."

"New variety," Emma said, wiping her hands off on her jeans. "I'm off."

"You need to be back by seven. You have another visitor later."

"Another visitor?" Emma questioned. "Who?"

"A friend."

Ward's response was very vague, and Emma watched as he moved back into his office, closing the door. She stared at his closed door for a moment, and after a quick look at her watch, she cringed. Emma hoped that Elara hadn't been waiting for too long.

Walking outside of the children's home that day, it felt like the air smelled much sweeter. Things didn't seem as dismal as they were before. There was hope that she could go home, hope that she could see her father whenever she'd like, hope that things would eventually work themselves out. She was scared, but things weren't so bad for the first time in nearly three weeks. For a moment, she could look past the fact that things were dangerous. Plans were being made, and she wasn't going to be kept in the dark anymore. Things were fine.

The scent of coffee and pastries wafted Emma's way as she made her way towards the café. She inhaled deeply with an appreciative hum. Perhaps she would get a coffee instead of a hot chocolate. She always enjoyed the smell of coffee, and the scent mixed with warm pastries was tantalizing even on a warm day. Emma was more than excited to walk into the café and let out a squeal of delight when she spotted Elara at one of the tables.

"Elle!" Emma said excitedly, running up to Elara and hugging her when she stood up.

"Hey, kid," Elara said brightly. She pulled back, holding Emma at arms-length, studying her closely. "I was getting worried about you. Had half a mind to come over and see what was going on. How are you doing?"

"Bit of a loaded question, yeah?" Emma said, sighing heavily when Elara reached up to touch the scar on her cheek. "It's fine. It doesn't hurt anymore. It was fine after that weekend, actually."

"Remus made it sound like he gouged your entire cheek out," Elara said with an amused smile. "This isn't bad at all. You used the balm like I said?"

"Every day, twice a day except the past few days because it's been –"

"It's been a lot, I know. Padfoot was an absolute mess, unharmed, but a complete mess after yesterday. Remus was a mess until he finally got to see you."

"Heard you basically moved in," Emma said. "How's that been?"

"I think it's been needed," Elara said slowly, almost carefully. "I think we've all needed each other in different ways."

"And how are _you_ doing?"

"I haven't been sacked yet, if that's what you're asking," Elara said with a snort. "I have a feeling that it won't be long, though. I'll be fine. I'm more than ready for it," Elara added at Emma's panicked expression. "Being a werewolf is a bit of an occupational hazard, and I was never one for relationships. I've got plenty saved up. My current arrangement is more than perfect for me."

"And what arrangement is that?"

"Me, myself, and I," Elara said with a wink. "Come on, let's get something to drink. I think a girl's day of shopping is in order."

Emma certainly felt much better with a vanilla latte in hand, but she felt even better at the very prospect of buying proper underwear. It was the first time she had ever been out with Elara, and Emma was enjoying herself far too much trying to shop in a department store. Elara had become like her older sister, and it was nice to have an older female to talk to. Emma realized that Elara dressed cool when she wasn't in her Healer robes.

She had seen Elara in just jeans and a jumper plenty of times. She had never seen Elara in ripped jeans, boots, cropped shirt with a flannel shirt wrapped around her waist. If Emma didn't know better, she would swear that Elara was closer to her in age than her father.

"Emma, just because it's pretty, it doesn't mean that it's comfortable," Elara laughed as Emma held up a pair of underwear that was more string than fabric. "Unless you're buying it because you want to show it off to someone," she added, waggling her eyebrows.

"Oh, God no," Emma said, putting the underwear in her hand down, unable to hide the blush that crept across her cheeks.

Elara's eyebrows immediately shot up, and a knowing grin crossed her face. "Emma Hope Lupin, do you mean to tell me –"

"George and I aren't together!" Emma said quickly.

"Yet," Elara replied.

"I haven't even written to him," Emma sighed. "I only wrote to Harry, and I don't even know if he'll be able to write back now. It's been days, and Harry's been a pretty fast writer."

"You wrote to Harry?"

"I thought it would be nice to talk to someone who understood to some degree. Besides, I felt it would be good to actually get to know him."

"I think that was a good idea," Elara agreed. "But I'm surprised you haven't written to anyone at all."

"I just…I wasn't feeling up to it," Emma said with a one-shouldered shrug. "Suppose it doesn't matter now because I don't have an owl. Aurora went back home, yeah?"

"Yeah, she showed up this morning with a note from your grandfather," Elara said, following Emma over to a different section of the store. "You know, if you want to write to anyone, just let Remus know. I don't mind meeting you to pick up your letters. You should at least let your friends know what's going on. Tell George, at least. His dad's been trying to help where he can."

"He has?" Emma asked in surprise.

"Arthur knows that George fancies you, and he thinks the entire situation is ridiculous. You have a fair amount of people in your corner."

"But not enough to make a difference," Emma said sadly.

"They can't keep you away from your father forever," Elara said pointedly.

"It feels like it," she muttered. "I'm half expecting to be stuck in Saint Nicholas's for the next two years until I'm seventeen, and then I'll finally be able to go home. I suppose if that's what had to happen, I would be fine with it as long as we could still see each other…What's two years compared to ten?"

"It won't be that long," Elara said. "Especially since you have all of your summer work to do. They're not going to keep you there, trust me."

"Where are we meeting Dad, anyway?"

"Over at Sainsbury's."

"Sainsbury's?" Emma asked, perking up slightly. "The one he worked at before?"

"He thought it would be funny if John made a reappearance. He was getting annoyed being at home and decided to work there again," Elara said, rolling her eyes. "I think he's a bloody idiot when he doesn't have to work right now."

"But it's close enough for me to bother him," Emma grinned. "His sense of humor is terrible sometimes. Besides, he doesn't know how to take a break."

"Ah, so that's where you get it from," Elara said, looking down at her watch. "He should be done in an hour, actually. I'll drop you off over there, and then I have to head off. Let's get you a few more things because what you have is _not_ going to be enough. We'll stop at a few charity shops along the way to see what we can find."

With clothes shopping out of the way, Emma and Elara finally made their way to Sainsbury's. Emma was more than delighted to be with Remus, even if it meant grocery shopping. With Emma effectively swapped over to her father, Elara took her leave.

Even though Emma was content to be grocery shopping with her father, she quickly learned that she still didn't enjoy the task. She hated grocery shopping even more when she realized how limited her options would be. It needed to be small things that could be hidden and carried in her bag with very strict rations.

"Sweetheart, you make it sound as though I'd ever let you starve. This is just to get you through the worst of it. I promise, you'll have regular meals one way or another," Remus said gently as Emma packed the things they picked up into her bag. They found a hidden section outside of the store so Remus could cast the charms she needed.

"I just didn't realize how dramatic this was all going to be," Emma admitted. "And not being able to do anything to really fend for myself is hard."

"Well, it's a good thing that magic exists," Remus said, handing Emma a tin container so that she could have water. "The charm should hold for a few days, so you won't have to worry about not having water. If it seems like it's not working the way it should, let me know, and I'll fix it as soon as I can."

Emma sighed, looking down at her watch with a frown. The day had gone by very quickly, and she had to be back soon. "I felt optimistic last night, but now I don't," she muttered bitterly, shifting her bag. The combination of the featherlight and extension charms made her feel a little off-balance with her bag.

"Did you want to walk for a little bit?" Remus asked. "Or head over to the river and sit?"

"I have to head back," Emma said sadly. "Apparently, someone else is meant to be there to see me."

"Who?" Remus asked with a frown, clearly not anticipating Emma needing to leave so soon.

"No idea."

"That means they're not from our side."

"Do you think that it's Greyback, then?" Emma asked, readjusting her bag again. "Could you adjust the featherlight charm, please? It's too light."

"It could be," Remus said, not appearing too delighted by the idea as he took Emma's bag to redo the charm. "It would make sense, considering the connection to Ward…"

Emma watched Remus for a few moments and took in the disappointment on his face. It wasn't an expression that he wore plainly on his face. As hard as everything was for her, she couldn't imagine how much worse it was for her father.

"I don't want to go if that makes you feel better," Emma offered, stepping in close enough so that she could rest her head on his arm. "I wouldn't even care if we had to stay down this…very sketchy area so I can spend time with you."

Remus chuckled softly, setting Emma's bag down and bringing a hand up to hold her head against his arm. "I know you wouldn't," Remus said.

For the longest time, Emma hated silence. Silence had always meant bad things in her mind, though she never understood why. Silence led to awkward moments where she used to continually feel the need to fill the quiet. But silence with her father was different, calming. They were always more than content to stay as they were, just happy to be with each other. The city was busy, continually moving during the day, and this was a moment just for them.

"I should probably go," Emma eventually said, looking at her watch and stepping away from Remus. "I really don't want to…I have a strong feeling my visitor will be Greyback. I'm not afraid of him anymore, but…"

"You can be afraid of him, you know. I know I certainly am," Remus said, handing Emma her bag.

"But you're…you're you. You're so brave," Emma said earnestly.

"I wish I could see what you see in me sometimes," Remus replied. "I'm not very brave at all."

"Well, you're still the bravest person I know," Emma said, throwing her arms around Remus's middle to hug him tightly. With promises to write as soon as possible, they parted ways. Emma doubted that it would ever get easier.

Anxiety settled itself into Emma's stomach the moment she stepped back into Saint Nicholas's. Being back early made her feel odd, and she was left with at least twenty minutes to herself. She wasn't sure what would await her, and the disturbing lack of people around made her nervous. There were always at least two staff members in the staff area that she had noticed so far, very much witches with wands. Emma wondered about their stories, but it would have to wait for another day. No one was around.

Reluctantly, Emma started to pull her new clothes out of her bag. Elara had spared her the hassle of having to have her clothes washed right away, making quick work of laundering spells. It lacked the signature scents of home, but it was at least familiar enough. She picked up the closest shirt to smell it and sighed. Running away was starting to seem like a more appealing idea by the minute.

She stared at her things laid out on top of her dresser, her lip curling at the idea of even having to put any of it away. Putting her clothes away made it seem like her current arrangement would be more permanent than it was, but she didn't want to have to dig every day. With a slight growl, Emma began to put her clothes away. There was no point in making herself suffer any more than she had to.

Emma wondered idly if it was just her thing or a werewolf thing that she was aware the moment Fenrir stepped foot into the premises. If the lack of staff wasn't an indication to her visitor, the chill down her spine would have made it obvious. She glanced over at her clock with a noise of approval. Five minutes early was impressive. Emma half expected him to be late.

Not wanting to be taken off-guard, Emma kept herself turned to watch her mirror. She was well aware that Fenrir moved silently, and she wanted to finish putting her things away. As far as she was concerned, this was her territory. Keeping her gaze low as she unpacked, Emma watched for any sign of Fenrir's arrival. It took her a considerable amount of effort to continue what she was doing when she spotted the ends of his boots as he paused in her doorway.

"Thought it might be you when Ward said I had a visitor tonight," Emma said conversationally. She picked up Remus's jumper, the last thing she needed to put away, and sighed, holding onto it for a moment to give her some form of strength. "Do you have a watch that I've never seen before? Or is it some sort of wolfish instinct that you know precisely what time you're meant to arrive?"

Emma added Remus's jumper to the last open drawer and turned around, a hand on her hip, and froze. She had mentally prepared herself for Fenrir, but she never would've imagined this particular version of Fenrir. This was a _clean_ Fenrir, and if it weren't for his overly cocky pose as he leaned against the doorframe, Emma might have doubted it was him at all.

His usually matted hair was washed and brushed out, sitting neatly. She was surprised to see a natural shade of brown to his dark hair and was surprisingly shiny. It wasn't as long as she could have sworn it was the day before. If he went through this much effort, she imagined the werewolf had to sacrifice some of its length to get it clean. Fenrir's skin, which always seemed to be covered in a layer of dirt, was scrubbed clean revealing tanned skin. Did Fenrir always have a pierced ear? That seemed new.

Much like at Christmas, Emma was surprised to find that Fenrir found the ability to wear clothes that fit. His boots and leather trousers seemed to be signature staples to his wardrobe, but his shirt was new. Emma had to bite down hard on her lip to keep herself from bursting into laughter at Fenrir Greyback in a polo. Of course, it was worn with every button undone and stretched tight over his chest, but it was a polo all the same. She tried to remember what his coat looked like, but she was pretty sure his overcoat was new, or else it had been cleaned. However, that wasn't the most disturbing part to Emma – it was the fact that he had shaved his face.

"Who the fuck are you, and what have you done with Fenrir Greyback," Emma blurted out, tilting her head slightly as she stared at Fenrir. He was oddly fascinating when he looked somewhat normal, but there was a lingering danger that bristled underneath the surface. Even if he looked to be an ordinary man, Fenrir still wasn't someone to be caught in the wrong place with.

"Somehow, the whole werewolf thing is less menacing. Maybe you should keep this look – it's terrifying." Emma gave a subtle sniff and raised her eyebrows. "Shitting hell, the world is ending – is that…Fenrir, did you put on _cologne_ for me? You shouldn't have. Did this take all day? Or did you give yourself a proper spa day yesterday instead while I was being hauled off here?"

That earned an eye roll from Fenrir as he ran his tongue over his teeth in annoyance. "Funny what three weeks without your father does to your personality," he said slowly. "I know how to blend in when needed. It just depends on whether or not I really give a shit."

"It hasn't been three weeks," Emma said, whatever amusement she had withered away. Fenrir knew how to kill a good mood quickly. "Not yet."

"Was today the first time you've seen him since?"

Emma frowned slightly and shook her head. "No," she answered, crossing her arms. "I saw him last night. But I'm sure you already knew that."

"I can smell your father all over you. Of course, I knew that."

"What do you want, Fenrir? I don't need you to state the obvious; I'm living it, thank you."

Fenrir sized Emma up, his head tilting ever so slightly to the right as he surveyed her. He remained in her doorway, leaning casually against the frame as if it was something he did every day. Perhaps he did when she was here last, but she didn't remember. Perhaps she never would. "I want to make you an offer," he said, finally straightening up.

"Whatever you have to offer, I don't want it," Emma said.

"Hmm, that's what you said the last time. If I recall, you seemed quite keen to hear what I had to offer when you realized what I had."

"I don't suppose that what you have to offer has anything to do with the folder this time, is it?"

A slight smile reached Fenrir's lips. "You always were smart," he chuckled. "No, my offer is of a different nature."

"Then I really don't want to hear it," Emma said, starting to bend down to pick up her bag and yelping as she had to straighten up quickly. Clearly, Fenrir wasn't willing to take no for an answer.

Her room did not offer a lot of space for her to move, so when Fenrir advanced, she had no choice but to move backward. To Emma's displeasure, that left her up against the wall. She huffed in annoyance as he boxed her in, his hands on either side of her head. That annoyance gave way to a shiver of fear as he drew closer, bending down, his nose nearly touching hers. It was a challenge.

"I see that you're still as stubborn as ever," Fenrir said. "Just like your father, stubborn for all the wrong reasons. Unable to accept the truth and what you truly are."

"I didn't say I didn't accept what I was," Emma pointed out. "I just said I don't want what you have to offer."

Emma held Fenrir's gaze for only a moment before averting her gaze. As much as she wanted to give in and challenge Fenrir further, it wouldn't help her case. She had no friends in the children's home. No one would be able to save her if something went wrong. It went entirely against her nature to be so submissive, but she could play the role. Fenrir might look more like a man than he ever did, but she knew better. He was all wolf. She let out a slow breath and grudgingly bared her neck to him as much as she felt comfortable with. Emma hoped it would appeal to his wolfish nature and show she wasn't willing to fight.

It always made Emma uncomfortable that Fenrir's growls could sound pleased, but the noise that rolled up his throat was precisely that. "You know, after that first time in Hogsmeade, I find myself thinking about where I'm going to bite you," Fenrir said quietly, moving slightly closer.

"Oh, really? How lovely," Emma muttered, regretting her show of submission.

Fenrir's head dipped low, and Emma instinctively pressed her hands to his chest to try and keep him from coming closer. It only served to make him chuckle with genuine amusement. The situation was too familiar, and she felt her breathing grow shallow as he pulled aside the collar of her shirt.

"I can't decide what would be better…" Fenrir rasped, his nose brushing along her exposed shoulder. "I think it should be here, just like I'd planned last time."

Emma's breath caught when she felt the sharp drag of Fenrir's teeth on her shoulder. She had no doubt that if he wanted to sink his teeth into her right then, he could. There would be no stopping him if he decided it was what he wanted to do. But to her relief, Fenrir pulled away, and Emma's face twisted slightly as he grabbed onto her left hand, lifting her arm.

"But then I also think that right here would be a good spot, the perfect reminder of who you belong to," Fenrir said, baring his teeth in a wolfish grin before pulling her arm higher and grazing his teeth over the skin of her wrist. He suddenly pulled her arm up higher. "Or, my personal favorite, you can match your father." Emma watched as his teeth pressed into the skin of her forearm, closer to her elbow, right in the spot where Remus's bite was.

Fenrir straightened up again, letting go of Emma's hand, and he laughed heartily as she pulled her arm back, keeping it close. This was a game for him, his version of a joke. Emma didn't find it funny at all.

"But of course, I have to finish the job if I have you match your father," Fenrir said, running his sharp nails across Emma's face. "It would be like looking in a mirror. What do you think?"

Emma dared to meet Fenrir's gaze for a moment. "I don't personally think it's a look for me," she said, looking down at his boots. She wondered how long it would take for him to finally leave.

"Tell me," Fenrir said quietly, lifting Emma's chin and forcing her to meet his gaze once more, "what's her name?"

The last thing Emma wanted to do was tell Fenrir what her wolf's name was, especially if he already knew it. However, Remus said that he would be testing her, and she wasn't sure she was willing to fail the same test twice.

"Soleil," Emma whispered.

"Soleil," Fenrir said softly, his gaze moving down to her necklaces. "I sense a theme. The moon…the stars –" his gaze lifted again, and he moved his hand from her chin to her hair, running his fingers through the strands "– and the sun. Poetic."

"I'm rather partial to it."

"I'm not sure that I like it."

"Well, it's a good thing that it's not your name then," Emma challenged.

"Are you scared of me, _Rabbit_?"

Emma sighed, grateful that Fenrir seemed more interested in using the nickname he gave her instead. "No," she said, meaning it. She was disturbed by Fenrir, couldn't get a clear read on the werewolf, but she wasn't scared of him.

"Bold statement coming from someone half my size, especially when you know what I'm capable of," Fenrir said, gently touching the scar on Emma's cheek. "Such a shame this didn't come from me."

"I see you waste no time, Greyback."

Ward was not a welcome addition to the situation, and the dark look on Fenrir's face told Emma he felt the same.

"What did I tell you about interrupting, Ward?" Fenrir growled, keeping one hand against the wall and dropping the other as he looked over his shoulder at Ward. Ward was blocked from Emma's view by Fenrir being so close to her, and Emma had to admit to herself she didn't entirely mind. The less she saw Ward, the better.

"I confess that I find myself curious," Ward said.

"Curious of what?" Fenrir snapped.

"What exactly happens to little girls like her when you're involved."

Emma shut down almost immediately. All resolve that she had was gone, giving way to what she could only describe as a near primal fear, but she wasn't sure what it was directed towards. She hugged herself tightly with a soft whimper, her face heating up in pure embarrassment that she wanted to cry. Was her fear directed towards Fenrir? Was it towards Ward? But Ellis had used it as well, pulling in the same reaction. Such an innocuous phrase held a power over her that not even Fenrir himself could possess. She couldn't understand why.

Fenrir's gaze snapped back to her so quickly that Emma visibly flinched. He studied her for a moment and lifted the hand at his side slowly, crooking a finger under her chin to lift her face once more. Emma refused to meet his gaze, already humiliated by the tears in her eyes.

"What did they do to you?" Fenrir whispered to her.

"I don't know," Emma whispered back.

Just as slowly as before, Fenrir brought his thumb up to brush away the stray tears that had fallen down her cheek. Emma lifted her eyes to meet his, surprised to find the lack of coldness in Fenrir's eyes. The last time he had looked at her this way, it was with pity, but this time it was with concern. "You really don't, do you? You should," he answered back after a moment, petting her head gently. "Unless…"

Fenrir straightened up slowly, stroking Emma's cheek as he pulled his hand away. He reached back and handed Emma her bag. He gave her a once over and jerked his head back towards her bed. Emma slipped past Fenrir, eying him nervously as she climbed into the bed, holding her bag on her lap. Her glances bounced between Ward, who looked slightly nervous, and Fenrir, who still didn't move from where he was.

When Fenrir finally turned around, Emma found herself nervous by the power that suddenly exuded off of him. Whatever anger he felt, though not directed towards her, was palpable, and Ward paled considerably. The smile that played at Fenrir's lips made it even worse, and she half expected Ward to bolt, but the man held his ground.

"I think we need to have a little chat, Ward," Fenrir growled, his tone commanding. "Your office. Now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	7. A Change in Plans

Emma wasn't entirely sure if it was worth writing to Remus, but the fact Fenrir handed her bag to her told her he knew much more. He had to have realized what she was doing the night before if he had been watching her. Cautiously, she pulled her notebook and quill out, activating it as quietly as possible. She knew it was stupid, knew Fenrir would hear her if he was close, but it still made her feel better.

' _It's Greyback_ ,' Emma wrote quickly. ' _Said he wanted to make an offer, but Ward showed up_.'

' _What happened?_ '

Emma huffed out an annoyed breath. This would be a much easier conversation to have in person. ' _That phrase from my Boggart keeps being said_ ,' she scrawled out quickly, tapping the end of the quill against the top of the notebook. ' _I don't know why. I just know that I'm not me when it's said. Greyback didn't seem too pleased by how I reacted_.'

' _But why?_ '

' _I don't know_. _He's with Ward right now. I'm not sure whether I'm more concerned about what's happening or the fact Greyback was nice to me._ '

Emma stared anxiously at the page, waiting for Remus's reply, and reached into her pocket to pull out the rock. The rock was warm from sitting in her pocket all day, and the smoothness of it was soothing. The only person it could have come from was Fenrir, which was alarming as it meant he was in her room. However, that didn't seem surprising as she practically gave him an open invitation leaving her windows open.

' _This is very unusual_ ,' Remus wrote back. ' _Something had to have changed from what we know, and that worries me. If something changed that Greyback didn't know about, it will make him unpredictable. He won't be happy. Keep your eyes and ears open, Emma. You are going to have to proceed with extreme caution. Do not be reckless. I am not losing you to Greyback.'_

Just by how jerky Remus's writing was, Emma knew he was worried. His lazy loops were sharp and jagged, and she could practically see him pacing in the living room. She couldn't fathom how difficult it was for Remus to feel like he couldn't do anything. His mood consistently soured after each encounter she had with Greyback while at Hogwarts, though it wasn't his fault. She hated that she couldn't try to reassure him as she usually would.

' _You won't, I promise_ ,' Emma wrote. Her head snapped up at the slam of a door. ' _Just heard a door. Putting this away just in case. I love you. I'll be fine.'_

Emma reluctantly wiped the book clear and shoved it back into her bag with the quill. She tucked her bag to the side of her body against the wall and anxiously turned the rock in her hands. Could she use the stone as a weapon if she needed to? The moment the thought crossed her mind, she realized how stupid it sounded. With how smooth the rock was, it would bounce easily off Fenrir. He would probably find it funny, but probably not in his agitated state.

It had been a long while since she had been terrified of Fenrir, but the look on his face nearly sent her scrambling back on her bed. Her blood ran cold as he slammed her door shut, and he turned to her with a deadly look. Emma tried to speak but found her mouth had gone dry. Fenrir stared at her, taking in a deep breath that came out as a growl.

Emma flinched as he shoved his hand into his pocket, unsure of what he was pulling out, and held tightly to the rock. Fenrir's eyes briefly found the rock in her hands but didn't care to deem it as a threat. She relaxed slightly as Fenrir pulled a vial out of his pocket with a wispy silver substance that looked far too familiar.

"Do you know what this is?" Fenrir asked, his voice strained as he held back his anger. She did in fact know what was in the vial, and she didn't like it. He gave a slow nod seeing the recognition in Emma's eyes. "Do you remember who took your memories from you?"

"No," Emma said quietly, watching as Fenrir reached into his pocket to pull out another, larger vial with a shimmering lavender liquid. "What's that?"

Fenrir's eyebrow arched, and he ran his tongue over his teeth. "You don't know what this is?" he asked.

"N-no. Should I? I'm decent at potions, but I've never…I don't know what that is."

"You should have received this nasty little brew when you left here," Fenrir said slowly. "Are you absolutely positive that you never had it?"

"I've never seen that before," Emma said quickly, nervously. "Nasty little brew?" she questioned. "I think I've had quite a few of those lately, but I certainly haven't had that. I would remember something with that specific coloring."

Fenrir's chuckle was dark. "That changes everything," Fenrir said, looking as if he was doing quick thinking.

"Changes what?"

"Well, since the bastards decided to change everything and not tell me, I've decided so am I. I'm not making you an offer because you are accepting this whether you want it or not."

"I…Fenrir, I don't understand," Emma said, her eyes flicking between Fenrir's and the vials he held in one hand.

Fenrir shoved the bottles back into his pocket and sat down on Emma's bed, grabbing onto her wrist to keep her from going anywhere. "You have two choices. Either you take the potion willingly, or I make you take it. Pick one."

"Why? Fenrir, you're not telling me anything."

"Don't play stupid, Emma. You know damn well the one vial holds some of your memories; memories that I was unaware were taken from you –"

"Which means you were aware that memories were being taken from me in the first place," Emma said accusingly. It took her a moment to realize that Fenrir had said her real name. After being called Rabbit so often, it didn't occur to her that he knew her actual name. Somehow that was worse than being called Rabbit or Soleil.

"I am because they're split up. I have some, and so does Ellis; I hardly think I have to explain who has the third set. I was unaware that more was taken, that Ward decided to be a fourth party. And up until a half-hour ago, I was prepared to offer those memories to you, try and forge something that benefits us both."

"And now you're not…"

"Oh, no. No, no, no. I am changing everything. There was an agreement, and it was broken. We're playing by my rules now. Something tells me that you understand the need for discretion more than your little friend does, and I don't anticipate any issues with you. You're not going to open your mouth and tell everyone about this and ruin everything."

This changed everything that Emma had ever been told. This went against what Persephone told her, and this went against what she knew. Emma wasn't entirely sure that anyone would be remotely prepared for this development.

"I don't want to work with you, Fenrir…" Emma said quietly. "I just…I want to get through however long I'm stuck here and finally get to go home."

"You're going to want to work with me."

"Why?"

"Because, Emma, the moment you understand, you'll realize the truth. I was never the villain in your story. Your entire life, _your entire mind_ , has been manipulated for you to believe things differently."

"By who?"

"You already know," Fenrir said, leaning in closer. "Because you trusted the wrong people."

"Fenrir, that's not fair," Emma said with a slight whine. "I didn't know!"

Fenrir's face softened ever so slightly. "I know that now," he said.

Emma hated this version of Fenrir more than anything because she didn't understand him. She understood the animalistic Fenrir and could accept that he was more wolf than man, but this was a Fenrir more man than wolf. It didn't sit well with her, and she struggled to make sense of what was happening.

If it weren't for Fenrir's hold on her wrist, she would have pushed herself as far away as she could by the slamming of her door. She looked over Fenrir's shoulder to look at Ward and was surprised to see that the man looked all right. He looked livid, and his wand was held tightly in his hand.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Greyback," Ward said tightly.

Fenrir sighed, letting go of Emma's wrist and turning around to acknowledge Ward.

"And why shouldn't I?"

Ward was bristling with anger while Fenrir just looked bored. "Greyback, if she knows – if Alexander finds out –"

"Do you think I give a shit if _Judas_ knows? Quit using his middle name. It's fucking stupid when she's not four anymore. You idiots act like she couldn't figure it out herself with how fucking stupid you all are."

 _Judas? Jude?_ Was Jude not his actual name? It would certainly explain why she couldn't find information on her family if that was the case. Fenrir had just given her a piece of information that she was sure her father didn't even know. Emma looked between Fenrir and Ward, entirely lost. She didn't particularly want to work with Fenrir in any capacity, but she needed more information. Deciding it was best to just listen and pay attention, Emma shoved the rock back into her pocket. Whatever was happening now required her full attention.

"Don't forget, Ward," Fenrir drawled, "I know where to find you and your family. It would be such a shame for the littlest one to disappear, wouldn't it?"

There was the Fenrir that Emma knew, and it made her sick. Perhaps she didn't want to work with Fenrir after all. She didn't want to be complicit in whatever he planned to do to Ward's family. Emma knew the damage that he could do, and she didn't need the guilt that would come with it. She wanted no parts of what was happening, but she couldn't find her voice.

But it still didn't change that he had never done anything to actually harm her.

Ward glared at Fenrir and shoved his wand roughly back up his sleeve. "I am not cleaning up the mess that you create."

"I don't expect you to. You need to clean up your own since you're the one who decided to ignore every little thing that was planned."

"Ale-Jude was the one who changed things."

"Oh, I have no doubt about it because I'm sure he thought he was getting one over on me. But you and Ellis aren't exactly innocent parties, are you? One of you had to realize that at some point, I would catch up to what you bastards did behind my back."

"None of us anticipated you caring about the little brat. If Jude had his way, this wouldn't have been a problem, but one of _yours_ managed to fuck that up. Had to turn her into _one of you_."

Emma's gaze immediately shot over to Ward. Did all of this mean that she had been right about Jude all along? It had to; there was no other explanation.

"She's mine," Fenrir growled. "I take care of the things that are mine."

"Yes, well, good luck with that now," Ward said, standing up straighter. "You know that Jude is only going to try harder now."

"Let him. He's predictable," Fenrir challenged. "I could use a good challenge." Fenrir stood up slowly, rolling his head on his neck. "I'm done talking to you now, Ward," Fenrir said, slamming the door in Ward's face. To Emma's confusion, she watched as Fenrir reached back into his coat to pull out a wand, casting some sort of charm on the door. She had no idea that Fenrir even _had_ a wand, and she realized that it was an incredibly foolish thing for her to not consider. Of course, Fenrir would have a wand. He was a wizard first before becoming a werewolf; he just didn't need to use it often.

Fenrir turned back to her slowly, his expression sharp.

"What will it be, Emma? Are you going to be difficult? Or are you going to make this easy?" he asked, crossing his arms. "Trust me, I have plenty of practice dealing with difficult pups."

It had been a very long time since Fenrir had called her a pup, and Emma frowned. "Fenrir, I'm not…"

"I thought you said you accepted what you were? You're a wolf, Emma," Fenrir said, in a tone that suggested that she was stupid. "Your father sired you, which makes you one of mine. You are pack, which makes you family. You. Are. A wolf. Granted, it appears your father has to be difficult. I'll admit that I'm disappointed that he cannot do you the simple favor of biting you to finish things. Perhaps that means he's giving you to me, after all. I'll have to thank him for such a gift…" Fenrir reached back into his pocket to pull out both vials. "It's your choice. The easy way? Or the hard way?"

"Fenrir, I don't want to be pack…I don't –"

"That's fine if you want to be cast out and be a lone wolf like your father. But keep in mind that means any other Alpha can have his way with you, and I'm afraid you're rather small, so you'll be…tempting," Fenrir said, stepping closer. "I think you're smart enough to understand what I would be willing to offer you."

"Besides a guaranteed bite?"

Fenrir chuckled as he sat back down. "There's more than that."

"Like what? Fenrir, what do you want from me? Why do you want to help? You don't seem like the sort of person who would do any of this if you weren't getting something out of it."

"You're correct. I don't. But who says I want something in return?"

"Fenrir, I'm not stupid."

"You had me worried," Fenrir chuckled.

"Well?"

"I'm getting you. I want your loyalty to me…and to the pack."

"Awful high price for me to pay considering I'm not even of age yet," Emma said. "Not sure that's enough for me to consider it."

Fenrir gave a slight shrug. "Only two years until that day comes," Fenrir said, studying Emma for a moment. "You're hesitating to give me any form of loyalty because you don't believe me."

"That could have something to do with it," Emma admitted. "And my loyalty isn't to you."

"I imagine you'll tell me your loyalty is to your darling father, isn't it?"

Emma held Fenrir's gaze for a moment before looking away. There was no way she would be able to get herself out of that one because it was the truth. She could convince herself to believe anything if it meant a solid lie, but she loved her father. Emma also had a sneaking suspicion that whatever wolfish connection existed, it meant she would be loyal to her father regardless.

"I'll offer you this – it will take me until sometime next week to retrieve every single memory of yours. That's provided all parties involved decide to play nice with me. I'll grant you that time to make your decision," Fenrir said, setting the bottles down on the bed and extending his hand out to Emma. "You might think you don't want to pledge your loyalty now, but you will. Do we have a deal?"

"When would those memories be from?" Emma asked, glancing at the vial in Fenrir's hand curiously.

"Just before you left here. I guarantee each one has something to do with me since you remember nothing involving me. Your lack of reaction to the rock I left you tells me that your inability to truly remember me goes beyond what they subdued in the first place."

Emma looked down at the glass vials, studying the swirling mist and the shimmering potion. "You said that it's a nasty brew. I'm assuming it's not just because it's a potion," Emma said.

Fenrir inclined his head slightly. "It'll be painful."

"Why?"

"Because your mind has to undo the damage that was already done while also trying to put everything back into place," Fenrir answered. He pointed to her memories. "These have to be added to this –" he pointed to the shimmering potion "– because they won't fit where they belong otherwise. This little bastard is meant to lift whatever effects the potion had in the first place, remove that fog that I'm sure you've felt. Even without memories being removed, I'm sure the memories of your last month here isn't clear."

"Why do you know so much about this?" Emma asked.

"I researched. I was the only one opposed to this specific set of requirements of you being here. If you're worried about the pain, I'm sure you know that I can alleviate that?"

"It didn't work that well with…with Elle," Emma said quietly. "Not like with Dad."

"She hasn't been a werewolf as long as your father and I have. I can't take the entirety of the pain away because it'll take a few days before you feel normal. Although, you're going to be in for a rough week regardless."

Emma blinked slowly at Fenrir. "Why am I going to be in for a rough week?"

Fenrir's signature smile twisted itself on his lips. "You don't stink of potions," he said, almost in amusement. "You'll bleed soon."

"Oh, buggering fuck," Emma muttered, her face heating up at the realization of what Fenrir was saying. She ran her hands down her face with a groan. With everything happening, Emma had completely forgotten to take her potion for her monthlies. She swore to herself that she would never forget again after doing it during the school year. At least her father was considerably more subtle about it, but it wasn't any less embarrassing. "Wonderful. Remind me to thank my father for letting you be the one to inform me I'm going to be absolutely miserable."

"Rather convenient that it lines up with the week before the full. I'm going to have a very difficult time resisting you…"

Emma would have been more disgusted if she wasn't suddenly preoccupied with the fact she lost track of time. The full moon was nearly a week away, and she would need to make the Wolfsbane Potion. How was she meant to do that with none of her things or knowing where to get the ingredients? She couldn't let Remus suffer again, not after the last month. Her stomach dropped at the realization that she wouldn't even have Remus to help her get through the night. Having a rough week was a gross understatement in every sense of the word.

"You promise that you won't let me suffer completely with this?" Emma asked. "And that you'll give me the time to make my decision?"

"You have my word," Fenrir said.

Remus was absolutely going to kill her for this one. Every conversation about Fenrir involved him telling her explicitly not to do what she was about to do. However, she wasn't left with too many options. Her door was magically sealed shut, and the room was too small to try and escape through the windows. She had Sirius's knife but had no idea what to do with it. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and Fenrir did not look to be willing to negotiate any more than he had. The choice was entirely out of her hands.

"All right," Emma reluctantly agreed, reaching out to shake Fenrir's hand. She yelped as he grabbed tight to her hand and pulled her to him, somehow spinning her to face the opposite way as he placed her on his lap. He pulled her tightly to his body so that her back was flush against his front. She made to protest the way he locked an arm tightly around her possessively, tensing up but thought better of it when he laughed. Of course, Fenrir would find it funny.

"I'm going to assume you've been waiting to do that," Emma muttered, shivering as his breath skimmed her neck as he reached for the vials.

"You'd be very right," Fenrir said, kissing her cheek. "Can I trust you not to try escaping?"

"Wouldn't get very far even if I tried," Emma said through grit teeth.

"Right you are, Rabbit."

Emma relaxed ever so slightly when Fenrir released his grip. He handed Emma the bottle with the shimmering potion, uncorking the bottle. It smelled deceptively sweet, but even she knew that sweet things could be dangerous. Maybe she would be lucky, and it wouldn't be terrible.

"You really need to learn how to relax around me," Fenrir commented. He popped the cork out of the other vial and tilted it, so the silver wisps melted into the potion.

"Well, when you act the way you do, it's a bit difficult," Emma replied. "Grabbing me like I'm a doll that you can just toss around. Can't say I'm too pleased with our current seating arrangement."

Fenrir huffed in annoyance and carefully adjusted so that Emma was sitting between his legs instead. Emma thought that would be the end of it, but he slid closer, seemingly unwilling to break their contact. She didn't particularly mind being positioned the way she was. She discovered that it calmed her when she was Remus, but it was much different with Fenrir. With Fenrir, it was clearly to show her who was in charge of the situation, demonstrating his apparent need to possess her. While Emma didn't protest Fenrir being so close, she protested as he took the potion bottle out of her hand.

"I thought this would be the easy way," Emma said in annoyance. "Why did you just take that from me?"

"This _is_ the easy way," Fenrir said, pulling Emma's head back to rest against his shoulder. "I don't trust you not to spill any of it. If you do, this entire thing is pointless, and I've wasted my time."

"I don't think I've regretted anything more than this," Emma grumbled.

"You won't," Fenrir said with a slight chuckle. "Well, maybe you will…You really need to relax, or else this is going to be even worse."

Emma took a deep breath, trying to ignore the fact it was Fenrir behind her. That was a complicated task when his arm snaked underneath hers. Still, she was grateful for the patience he was willing to extend. She didn't think he was patient often. She surveyed the potion bottle held in Fenrir's hand. It wasn't as much as a full dose of Wolfsbane, but there was a sizable amount of potion. She hated potions more than anything, but she could handle this. What could be worse than Wolfsbane?

The entire thing gave her an incredible amount of anxiety. There was a strong possibility he could be lying to her, but she knew what memories looked like. It would do her no good to be given memories that weren't hers, but the fear was still there. Emma swallowed hard, looking down at Fenrir's arm wrapped tight around her body. Needing to find some form of comfort, Emma tentatively placed her hand on top of Fenrir's, feeling entirely disgusted in herself. It was even worse when he understood what she was seeking, taking her hand himself, lacing their fingers together. If Emma didn't think she was small before, the way her hand sat in his made it much more apparent.

"Okay," Emma whispered when she finally pulled herself together. She went to pull her hand from Fenrir's, but he refused to let go. Emma supposed she would just have to accept it.

Fenrir readjusted slightly, pressing the bottle to her lips. "Open," he said quietly. Emma didn't have much room to not comply.

Whatever this strange potion was tasted as sickly sweet as it smelled. Emma was sure that Fenrir had lied to her and that the potion was something else entirely. She felt no different, and nothing seemed to be happening. A slight frown crossed her face as Fenrir set the empty bottle down and his now free hand came up to run through her hair. Emma was about to question it, but a sudden sharp pain seemed to spread through her entire head like a lightning strike.

Emma should have realized that Fenrir would have an extremely skewed definition of pain, considering he transformed every month. His possessive hold on her suddenly made sense as she felt she would be driven mad with the pain. It was a blinding, white-hot pain that sat at the base of her skull before exploding to the front of her brain. However, Fenrir was true to his word, and for perhaps the only time in her life, Emma was grateful he was a werewolf. She couldn't even be bothered by the way he wrapped himself around her body, pulling her into a familiar warmth. Emma had absolutely no understanding of werewolf magic, but this particular power was helpful.

The pain didn't dissipate nearly as much as she had hoped, but it was enough. Emma didn't expect it to leave her so weak, and she leaned back against Fenrir, breathing hard like she had run a marathon. His fingers coming up to massage her scalp was disturbingly blissful, relieving the pain further. And to think if this worked, she would have to go through this process all over again? Emma almost considered telling Fenrir to just bite her the next week instead. She didn't think that a werewolf transformation would be as terrible as what she experienced.

She wasn't sure how long they stayed how they were, but her headache dulled considerably. There was a definite throb, but she could manage. Emma opened her eyes slowly and lifted her free hand to wipe her face clear of her tears.

Fenrir finally let her pull her hand from his, and Emma felt her face heat up when he flexed his fingers. It was stupid of her to feel guilty that she might have actually hurt him, but the feeling was there. But that was an entirely new thought that she never would have thought otherwise.

Emma slowly slid herself away from Fenrir and dared to look over her shoulder at him and let out a soft gasp. She knew Fenrir. She knew that she knew Fenrir, but the recognition she felt was plain as day, like puzzle pieces fitting together. As much as Emma found Fenrir's entire ordinary man persona hysterical, she knew this version of Fenrir just as well as werewolf Fenrir. The flood of emotions she felt was confusing – anger, hurt, happiness, and to Emma's horror, love.

How could she ever have felt love for a monster so depraved as Fenrir Greyback? She hated herself for it and was increasingly annoyed that it would make sense. Fenrir had been a consistent part of her life, and she had latched onto him, just wanting someone to love her. She didn't know the truth of what Fenrir truly was, didn't know the stories, or understand the terror he caused. The worst part was as she sifted through her thoughts, it seemed he felt the same way towards her to some degree. That was an uncomfortable revelation for her to make.

Her thoughts suddenly drifted to the rock. Emma reached back into her pocket to pull the stone out, looking between Fenrir and the rock.

"You used to bring me rocks all the time," Emma said. "I found one I liked…out near the park, and you were with me, and that started my collection." Emma twisted herself to look out her window, searching for a particular tree. "The box of rocks we collected…"

"It's still there where you left it," Fenrir said softly. "I've added a few to the collection over the years."

Emma turned back around to look at Fenrir accusingly. "You knew I would come back here?"

"That was never part of the plan. It just became a habit for me. You were never meant to come back here," Fenrir said, standing up and crossing his arms. "You would have been given your memories again…provided you weren't dead, of course."

Emma nodded slowly, rubbing her temples. Too much had happened for her to process what was going through her mind. The dull ache was starting to grow again, and she pulled her knees up to rest her head on them with a groan.

"I'll try and bring you something for the headache tomorrow," Fenrir said, studying Emma for a moment. "I wouldn't stay up long. The sooner you sleep, the quicker your body will heal. You're going to need it."

"I don't know if I can sleep now," Emma said quietly, lifting her head as she looked around the room.

"Why not? I can see that you're exhausted."

Emma swallowed thickly. "I forgot that Ward used to lock me in a room by myself – this room – whenever I skipped meals…I guess because that meant I didn't have that potion. He would black out the windows so I couldn't see. He locked the door and wouldn't let me leave no matter how hard I begged." Emma met Fenrir's gaze, still not quite believing that she could remember that. She looked over at the door, wondering if Ward was still outside waiting. "I've been scared of the dark for as long as I can remember…I didn't understand why until now."

The look on Fenrir's face darkened again as he followed Emma's gaze, lips pulling back with a snarl. "I'll take care of it." Fenrir dropped a hand to rest on top of Emma's head for a moment. "I'll be back later, instead. I'll make sure your door stays unlocked, but I don't recommend leaving for a while," he warned.

She didn't want Fenrir to come back at all, and she watched as he left, closing the door behind him. Emma was eternally grateful for the chocolate bar that she had left untouched and immediately went into her bag for it. She broke off a piece and shoved it in her mouth, letting it sit on her tongue to melt. Somehow nothing and everything made sense all at once.

Emma was overwhelmed as she tried to sift through her thoughts, trying to pull up memories. It wasn't full memories because she couldn't piece those together yet, but things _fit._ She had never realized how much of her mind had been in a fog, how truly unaware of herself she had been. Emma had been a completely different person, still shy, still quiet, but she was different. Fierce, even.

Fenrir wasn't around as often as Emma had thought. He was there frequently enough that she knew him as well as he would allow. Fenrir wasn't the person who would show up for school events, leaving her disappointed often. If she was lucky when he was around, he would help her with homework and projects, but rarely did he care about those achievements. He was more concerned about keeping her active, both mentally and physically.

Praise was rare, but when he gave it, she felt loved. She had become a people pleaser, seeking validation from anyone and everyone she could. It was no wonder that Jocelyn found her an easy target. Emma just wanted people to care about her, and she had a lot of love to give. Jocelyn had been a challenge, once that she had never been able to defeat.

She realized that she had a relatively normal Muggle childhood. There were football games and dance classes – she wanted to be a ballerina. Emma felt stupid not knowing that about herself. It was such an innocent set of memories taken away from her, and she couldn't understand why.

It seemed like Fenrir treated her like a child from his pack, with tough love and roughhousing. When he was pleased with her, she was Pup; otherwise, he just used her name. When she played, he observed her, letting her make her own mistakes and receive everyday childhood bumps and bruises. Fenrir only stepped in when he felt she was being too reckless, which was decidedly often. Seeing Sirius in action, Emma had no doubt that the toddler version of herself learned her impulsivity from him. It brought a faint smile to her lips. She had always been equal parts of Remus and Sirius and had never known.

Despite the normalcy she was given, everything Fenrir did for her had a purpose. Maybe she wasn't necessarily meant to find joy where she could, but the carefree side of Emma always did. But it was all a means to an end, a way to help slow the tremor she developed from the Cruciatus.

A shiver went down her spine at the reminder of the torture curse. Until last year, Emma would never have understood, yet she knew about it already because Fenrir himself had told her. A foggy memory, still trying to take shape, found her sitting on Fenrir's lap as she cried because she wasn't like other children. The years of childhood bullying that came with making fun of her once red hair had also been riddled with the cruel words of other children judging her. She was abnormal, weird, broken as one boy had called her. Fenrir sought a way to fix that. He wanted a strong and healthy member of his pack, and he wouldn't have that with her if he didn't intervene.

It seemed as though Fenrir started her with football, forcing her to learn how to use her body in different ways. Emma preferred her books, but Fenrir didn't see the need, felt she was smart enough without reading. He was determined. Football wasn't enough to get the results he was looking for.

He moved along to dance, ballet specifically for its precision and its elegance. A much younger and much smaller version of herself hated it at first, but Emma loved being praised. She often received it during dance classes. Her heart broke a little at the sudden memory that she had been working towards a goal and had been so close. All she wanted to do was earn her pointe shoes to show Fenrir that she was better – not perfect, but much better than she was. She would have been able to start pointe classes the year started at Hogwarts.

Ballet had apparently stayed for a long time, but football was put to the side. Fenrir was content to let her grow strong in other ways – climbing trees, running around the playground, even using him as a makeshift jungle gym.

Her love of drawing apparently came from Fenrir, just another method of trying to dial back the damage done. Emma took to it quickly, enamored by the pretty crayons he would give her, and the smooth wooden pencils that she kept with her at all times. It was unfortunate how much her life was molded by the werewolf and how whole she suddenly felt. It was cruel.

But there was hidden darkness that made sense to keep secret. By Emma remembering, it made making her suffer harder. Her knowledge of the truth was power. Emma understood why Fenrir felt the need for her to know, but it felt manipulative.

Would it be worth telling Fenrir of Ward's further transgressions? She suffered the curse well past two. Just like her fear of the dark, it appeared that Emma was finally beginning to understand what happened to little girls like her. Little girls like her were tortured and threatened by the idea of violent acts just to be brought down a peg or several. In the rare moments she showed magic, she was reminded painfully as to why she shouldn't.

Emma lifted her hand to survey the shake and frowned. It was the worst she had ever seen it, and she brought her hand back close to her body. Was the return of the tremor from fear? Or was it her mind playing tricks on her, reminding her of what she had been through? It was both, Emma decided.

There were still parts of her mind hidden, chunks of time that weren't fitting in. The more she thought about it, the more her head started to hurt. Those were clearly the moments that were stolen from her. Maybe she did want Fenrir back just to try and relieve some of the pain. Emma really wanted both of her fathers with her, but she had to make do with what she had. She hated herself with every fiber of her being for it.

With a sigh, Emma wrapped up the chocolate and tucked it back into her bag. She looked behind her to look out the windows. The sun was getting lower in the sky but still not quite ready to set. Fenrir said he would be back later, and Remus would be waiting to hear back from her.

Emma twisted herself to lean against the wall, pulled out her notebook and quill, and activated the book. ' _Dad, are you around?_ ' Emma wrote, gnawing on her lower lip. Would it be better to try and explain now, or should she explain it in person?

' _I have nowhere else to be. Are you okay?_ ' came Remus's reply, his writing still jerky from nerves.

Was she okay? Other than feeling like she really didn't know herself, she supposed she was. ' _It's a lot to try and explain this way_ …' Emma wrote back, unsure of how to really respond to his question.

' _Try?_ ' he wrote back, and Emma sighed. She stared at the page for a moment, twisting the quill in her hands.

' _Do you remember how we talked about how it would be nice if I could remember everything?_ ' Emma scrawled out, waiting anxiously for Remus's reply.

' _Yes? Why?_ '

' _I changed my mind._ '

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOO BOY, this was a lot to unpack. Took three books and 600k+ words to get to this point.
> 
> The "Fenrir Greyback is His Own Warning" tag is super important and I'll be updating the tag list super soon. Please keep that in mind.
> 
> **come find me on:**  
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> 


	8. A Fatal Error

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **tw:** recreational drug use

It wound up being a longer night than Emma wanted. Fenrir returned just as he said he would but was in entirely different clothes. Emma didn't want to know the reason why and didn't dare ask. The lingering coppery scent that didn't melt into his cologne wasn't pleasant. She felt that if she asked, she would regret it. Ignorance would be beyond bliss.

Emma was surprised that Fenrir was helping her, suggesting that she move into a different room. Much to the overnight staff's ire, he helped Emma move her things into the next room over. The configuration was different, and it made her feel a little better. The new room felt marginally safer. To ensure there wouldn't be issues, Fenrir placed the extra furniture in the room she vacated. He was adamant that she would be given no problems with the new arrangement. Emma wasn't too sure.

It was possibly one of the more stranger nights Emma had. She had spent several months with two werewolves and a dog Animagus, but this topped the list of weirdest nights. There was something innately wrong about the nighttime and spending time with Fenrir. She was wrestling with herself fiercely, frustrated that such traitorous feelings kept breaking through her rational thoughts. Having Fenrir there didn't help, even if he mostly kept to himself. As much as she wanted to, Emma couldn't convince herself to try and tell him to leave. She had a feeling Fenrir wouldn't anyway, especially since he planned to ransack Ward's office once she fell asleep. He was under the strong impression that there were more memories hidden, and he planned to literally sniff them out.

"Just curious, what were you planning on doing with the knife?" Fenrir had asked Emma idly as she struggled to fall asleep. He sat on the opposite side of the room underneath the windows, reading a book he had found in Ward's office. It felt too domestic for Emma's liking.

"What are you talking about?" Emma asked, reaching out to poke the jar of blue flames that she had been able to conjure after Fenrir found her a jar. They were multiple tiny flames, but they served their purpose. It was fortunate they were in a magical facility so she could do something for herself. She had several people she could blame magic on, and she wasn't above blaming anyone anymore. Emma watched the way the flames danced, casting their strange blue glow across the room. The light bounced prettily off the stark white walls, Emma mused.

Fenrir looked up from his book, giving Emma the third successive look that night that told her he thought she was stupid. "Really?"

Emma huffed, rolling onto her back and crossing her arms. "I dunno," she said. The ceiling made her less annoyed. It was plain and smooth. It wasn't rocky like her current situation. "Sirius gave it to me. And why were you going through my things?"

"I was curious to see what you actually had. I was wondering what charms were added to your bag, and I was surprised to find there weren't many," Fenrir said conversationally. "He didn't even show you how to use it?" he added after a moment.

"No, because he had to leave, no thanks to you."

"If he didn't insist on trying to play the hero, he wouldn't have had to leave."

"He thought he was protecting me."

"Did a wonderful job of doing that, didn't he?"

Emma turned her head to shoot Fenrir a glare. "It's _your_ fault for being an absolute arse."

Fenrir closed the book slowly and set it aside, his eyebrows raising. "Is that so?"

"Yes! Who sends fourteen-year-old girls absolutely cryptic messages to meet them in nearby gardens with absolutely no explanation? And then decides to find said girl somewhere else 'just to talk?' Fenrir, that's bloody weird, and you know it."

"Not that strange when you need to be discreet," Fenrir said with a slight shrug. "You have got a lot to learn, Rabbit. Especially now. Besides, you turn fifteen in under two months."

"Why now?" Emma asked sharply, choosing to ignore that he knew when her birthday was. She turned back on her side, annoyed. "You have yet to give me any explanation of anything."

"Because you need the entire picture to understand. I'm not explaining myself twice."

"So I'm forced to wait until you decide I'm allowed to know?"

"You're forced to wait until I have everything," he said, leaning towards her, an amused smile on his face. "I doubt you want to have to go through what you went through multiple times."

Emma could only manage a sneer that she was sure rivaled Draco's signature expression before turning over to face away from Fenrir. It was a mistake she would never make again around him. She startled at the sudden press of cold metal against her throat, but Fenrir held her tight to prevent herself from getting hurt. The werewolf was a silent killer, and Emma knew better. A low growl rolled up her throat as he laughed. Of course, he would find it funny.

"Too easy," Fenrir chuckled, holding the blade right where it was.

"Rather cruel to use a witch's own weapon against her, is it not?" Emma challenged.

"Only if she still had it in her hand, but I knew where to find it," Fenrir said, flipping the knife so she could take the handle. Emma had half a mind to stab him with the knife the moment she had it in her hand. "Do you even know how to use it? Your dog clearly knew not to skimp out. This is one of the better ones I've come across."

Emma was quiet for a moment before letting out a bitter, "No." Fenrir seemed to pity her and took the time to walk her through opening and closing the knife without cutting herself. Everything else she would have to figure out on her own.

"This is one of the first things pups learn when they're old enough to hunt," Fenrir said, sounding almost disappointed. "I'm surprised your father never bothered to teach you and allowed you to rely so much on magic."

"Probably because I'm not going out hunting," Emma said dryly.

"Still a good thing for you to know," Fenrir insisted.

"Then why didn't you teach me before?"

"You weren't old enough."

Emma desperately wanted to make a comment and decided sleeping was a much better use of her time. Fenrir was annoying. He seemed to determine that Emma wasn't sleeping anytime soon and decided to go through Ward's office, bored of trying to read. He left with only the warning to keep the knife on her person and not in her bag.

Fenrir had been onto something when she woke up that morning and had her bag searched by the morning staff. She didn't want to know what would have happened if they came across the knife. No amount of insisting Dumbledore said that wasn't permittable was enough to convince them to stop. Her entire bag was confiscated except for her coin purse. It was humiliating being berated by people who had little sympathy for her situation because of what she was. She didn't expect the stigma of being a werewolf to extend so far down that adults felt comfortable calling a teenager a monster. If Emma didn't experience it before leaving Hogwarts, it would have hurt more than it did. Still, it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

She wasn't grateful that she kept her notebook and quill separate. It was just something she would have to carry with her all the time. Emma didn't waste any time in leaving the children's home that morning. She hid her notebook and quill in her jeans' waistband to hide underneath her shirt and shoved the knife in her pocket. Emma felt like a proper rebel.

York suddenly seemed so much different to her when she stepped beyond the gate of Saint Nicholas's. Her head was still pounding, but she had dealt with worse. It was the nauseating cramping of her stomach that had her more concerned. She was going to give her father a piece of her mind for that moment of pure humiliation with Fenrir.

The area was much easier to navigate since she finally remembered it. She knew the streets like the back of her hand from all of her previous adventuring. The idea of having her own Marauder's Map of York almost seemed like a brilliant idea. She was a little shaky in the actual city area, but she found the café she was meeting her father quickly. Remus looked delighted to see her until he saw the look on her face and took in the noticeable absence of her bag.

"Rough night?" Remus asked carefully as he stood from his table to greet Emma.

Emma just grumbled into his chest in response as she walked into his arms. She felt much better being held close, and it hit her all at once just how tired she was. "I don't know if rough even remotely covers how the past twenty-four hours have been," Emma murmured, snuggling closer.

"Where's your bag? You're not meant to leave it anywhere."

"Ah, but that would mean I have a bag to leave," Emma said darkly, leaning back to look up at her father. "Like I said, rough doesn't begin to cover it."

Trying to explain everything that happened in a remotely cohesive manner directly correlated to how scattered Emma's brain was. There was no structure to her words, and she was sure she repeated herself several times. She was prone to having too many thoughts, but now she had far more than before. It wasn't a comfortable feeling.

Remus listened patiently to Emma, nursing his cup of tea as he allowed her to ramble. He had a gift for processing her endless streams of thought. Emma was grateful that he could decipher what she was trying to say.

"If I didn't know who I was before, I really don't think I know now," Emma finished, rubbing her temples.

Remus studied Emma for a moment, looking thoughtful. He set his cup of tea down in front of him, crossing her arms and leaning back in his chair. "I know this is a huge risk, and you wouldn't be able to stay," he said slowly, "but do you want to come home for a little bit?"

Emma had never said yes to something so quickly in her life.

The overwhelming relief Remus felt of having Emma back at home was worth every ounce of risk he was taking. It was dangerous, and the Ministry sent people to check on him without warning when he wasn't working, but he couldn't take it anymore. He could see the rapid escalation of Emma's panic, and once his mind was made up, nothing was stopping him.

He was distressed by the entire situation. Everything they had figured out had been turned entirely upside down in one fell swoop. Any plan they had was utterly obliterated. The new plan was that there was no plan, and it didn't sit well with Remus. Dumbledore and Severus had both been right about what happened with Emma, and Remus was starting to feel that his theory was correct as well. Not only was there an extraordinary amount of care to keep her hidden, but there was just as much care in keeping her oblivious.

Remus had no idea how Emma was holding herself together as well as she was. He had already unraveled at the seams at least eight times just during her explanation of the previous night's events. It was too much for an adult to handle; he couldn't imagine how it was as a teenager.

He was not surprised when Emma wanted to sleep after more than happily enjoying a homecooked meal. The dark circles around her eyes had him under the impression she hadn't been sleeping much, if at all. Truthfully, he was grateful that she wanted to sleep because he needed time to process his own thoughts. Besides, he would never pass up the opportunity to have a cuddle. Emma was such an incredible source of comfort for him, and he liked to think he was the same for her.

Rather than going to her room, Emma promptly dropped herself into his bed. Remus dutifully settled himself into his bed, taking his customary position of leaning back against the headboard, and Emma followed. With a sleepy smile, she curled into his side, tucking her head right underneath his chin, and promptly fell asleep.

"When did we pick up our missing girl?"

Remus looked up at Elara with the first genuine smile he had in weeks. "A few hours ago," he said, kissing the top of Emma's head. "I couldn't stand it anymore. I'll have to bring her back out soon because I have work."

"Call out," Elara insisted. "She missed you."

"I wish I could. And it's the quickest she's ever cuddled with me, too," Remus said, gently adjusting Emma to a more comfortable position with a chuckle. "She keeps getting herself in the worst possible positions to sleep because she wants to be close. Poor thing hasn't been this anxious in a while. The guilt she feels over everything…I wish I could get her to understand that none of what's happened the past month is her fault."

"Because she grew attached to Fenrir when she was younger, and she knows the truth about him now?"

Remus nodded. "That's exactly why."

"It's understandable," Elara said, stepping into the room and sitting at the end of Remus's bed. "I think it's a natural cycle when it comes to Fenrir. I know I went through it."

"So did I, but she's not going to understand that," Remus sighed. "She feels like she's betraying me. She's very aware of what Fenrir is, but she's afraid that she won't be able to separate those feelings." Remus looked up at Elara and took a good look at her. "Your shift ran much longer than usual, and you look like shit. What happened?"

"Well, imagine my surprise when the emergency call was for Broderick Ward. It appears the lovely director of Saint Nicholas Children's Home managed to become Fenrir's toy. That's why I had to leave so quickly last night – perks of working with 'dangerous bites.' I guarantee it's not the last attack we see from Fenrir in the next few months."

"What did Fenrir do to him?" Remus asked curiously.

"Oh, you know, the usual, biting, scratching…left his face surprisingly intact. The rest of him? Eh…he'll manage because it can all be covered. I was rather impressed that Ward's face was mostly untouched, considering Fenrir loves ruining faces more than anything, the bastard. Ward nearly lost both eyes, though. That was fun. Wound up being able to save the other."

Remus gave a slight snort. "Going for the eyes was a good touch. That would make sense," Remus said with a one-armed shrug. "Can't say I can be too fussed by it."

Elara looked at Remus in alarm and glanced at Emma, eyes narrowing slightly. "What did Ward do to her?"

"What makes you think Ward did something to her?"

"You're disgusted by Fenrir. For you to find something worthwhile about what he's done…the only explanation is it has something to do with Emma. Spill, Remus Lupin."

By the time Remus finished telling Elara everything Emma had told him, she wore a look of pure revulsion on her face. Elara looked between Remus and Emma's sleeping form and shook her head, shaking with rage.

"She was _a child_ – she's still a child," Elara spat angrily. "He locked her in a bewitched fucking room just because he was angry with her because of something Fenrir told her to do? I should've let him lose both eyes, make him see how absolutely bloody terrifying it is to be left in darkness. And they took her bag today because she had 'contraband?' Absolute bollocks."

"It would have looked too suspicious if someone realized. The fact you're even still in St. Mungo's is a miracle," Remus sighed. "You did the right thing. Although I agree – he should have lost both eyes. As for Emma's things…it's not much that was lost, thankfully. I'll be letting Dumbledore know. I'm not letting her leave without having something else to eat. As long as she can leave during the day, she can work around things. I just worry that they'll cut off her access to the outside world."

A deep frown crossed Elara's face as her brows knitted together. "I wasn't sure how I felt about Emma getting any of her memories back, but I think she needs them. It sounds like a lot more makes sense to her, which is important if she's going to protect herself. Knowledge is clearly power in this case. If Fenrir is going through this effort for her to know everything, there's a reason."

"That's yet another one of my concerns. It sounds like he grew attached to her, too, and she knows it," Remus said bitterly. "I knew he would take advantage of the situation, but not like this."

"He's trying to keep her safe," Elara said. "If he wasn't, he would have hurt her already. But from what?"

"He won't tell her. And just because he hasn't hurt her doesn't mean he won't."

"No, of course not, but until he finds a reason to cause her any real harm, she'll be fine for now," Elara pointed out. She sighed at the look on Remus's face. "I don't like it any more than you do, Remus. Her interactions with him have all been intimidation tactics. Now he's trying to show her what he's like with the pack. Well, at least when he's not in one of his moods. He's going to try and manipulate her to try and see things his way, try and gain her trust. It might not be right away, but she'll see right through it. Emma's a brilliant girl, Remus – you know that. You have to trust that she'll know what to do."

Remus gave a slight nod. He knew that Emma was smart, had never had doubts about it, but he didn't like not knowing what was happening. Remus lived on plans and on logic, but there was none. He couldn't help Emma like he needed, and he was starting to feel more and more useless. Remus pulled Emma a little tighter, burying his nose in her hair.

"She's going to need time to work through her feelings, Remus," Elara said gently. "It's a lot for her to take in, and I have no doubt it's only going to get harder. She grew up with a much different Fenrir than even we got to see. I think, right now, our best bet is to let things continue in the direction that they're going. Keeping her in environments she feels safe is going to be important."

"And if she doesn't work through her feelings?"

"Remus, don't be such a pessimist. You know that she will; don't be stupid. Fenrir is all pretty words and false promises, and she's young, so she'll fall for it – you need to let her," Elara said, holding her hand up when Remus made to protest. "Listen to me - at the end of the day, Emma is always going to remember this – this exact moment. You are willing to risk everything for her, and she'll understand that. Remus, I promise you with everything that I have, you are never going to lose your baby girl."

"I don't know what I would do without her," Remus admitted softly.

"You won't have to," Elara smiled. "Now, on a more interesting and slightly happier note, you mentioned that she said she did ballet?"

"She did," Remus nodded. "Makes a lot of her little quirks make sense, doesn't it?"

"Because she'll run through exercises without knowing it when she's pacing?" Elara asked, chuckling at Remus's nod. "I noticed it a while ago but didn't want to point it out and make her self-conscious of it. Do you think it's something she would want to do again?"

They both fell silent as Emma stirred, her brow furrowing in her sleep from whatever dream she was having. Remus sighed, cradling her head to his chest until Emma finally relaxed again. He looked up and shot Elara a look at the curious expression on her face. "Elara Douglas, I swear I will curse you all the way into the furthest possible place I can if you say a word."

"I'm not going to say anything," Elara said in amusement. "Just surprised you've decided to let Moony out to play a little more just to try and soothe bad dreams. It's sweet. Never thought I would see the day that Remus Lupin took advantage of being a werewolf."

"I'm not fond of it," Remus muttered, "but that's the third one she's had so far since being here. If I can project something good for her, then I will. Turns out that the sun means a lot for her, too."

"She's dreaming of the dark, isn't she?" Elara asked before giving Remus a funny look. "Merlin's saggy tits, you've taken it one step further, and you're using Soleil to see what she's seeing? Who are you, and what have you done with Remus? I think I need to bring _you_ to St. Mungo's to make sure it's really you."

"Oh, shut up," Remus huffed. "And it's not the first time I've done it. But I'm certainly never going to tell her that." He rolled his eyes at Elara's surprised look. "I don't want to talk about it; I'm not proud of it at all. As for ballet? I think she does, but she won't say it because she doesn't want me spending money on her."

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Elara shrugged. "And she can't say a word if I'm the one who pays for it."

☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾

Emma felt that suffering through Apparition was worth going home for a little bit. Leaving was the worst possible feeling in the world, but she felt as refreshed as she possibly could. She had been delighted to see Elara and was eternally grateful for whatever potion cocktail she put together to ease her headache.

She had felt optimistic until they had lunch, and Remus brought up the upcoming full moon. Emma did _not_ like that Snape would be the one to make the Wolfsbane Potion again, and nothing would convince her that it was a good idea. It was Snape's fault that anyone knew her father was a werewolf in the first place. It might have been Dumbledore's punishment for Snape for causing so many issues, but Emma hated it with every fiber of her being. Her mood soured considerably and only grew worse at discovering that Fenrir was spot-on with his comment the day before. At least she had been home when the inevitable happened.

"Two werewolves! I was with _two_ werewolves all day!" Emma said in aggravation, glaring at both Elara and Remus accusingly. "And you both let me find out from _Fenrir Greyback_ that I missed my potions? I literally do not ever want to hear him bring up my period ever again, thank you."

Her tantrum was not dignified, but she was quickly won over by a quick cuddle before having to leave.

Emma forgot how stuffy and hot the children's home could get after spending most of her day within the cottage's cool walls. She had never realized just how much Remus did just to make sure she felt comfortable until she was sweating in her room at Saint Nicholas's.

The new room had all three windows facing directly into the room, pulling in the breeze. It helped ease the hot air out as the sun dropped, but it was still stifling. To Emma's annoyance, her door was promptly closed and locked at around ten that night. At least with the door open, the faint breeze would blow through and cool her room down.

She couldn't understand how the children's home could be staffed by witches and wizards, and yet the building was so hot. Her frustration only grew when she got down on the floor to peer under the door for movement only to find the staff lounge had been charmed cool.

"Wankers!" Emma shouted under the door at whoever could possibly be listening. "This is cruel and unusual punishment!" No one responded.

Out of sheer desperation, Emma peeled her clothing off her damp skin. Elara's suggestion to purchase a wireless bralette was sheer perfection. Pairing the top with a pair of shorts was as much clothing as she was willing to wear. It was comfortable and kept her covered so she could melt a little less.

Between melting, Emma kept up writing to Remus in her notebook and reading. She had been pleased to find a few of her comfort books in the library on the second floor, and she gladly pilfered them for her entertainment. It was evident she would need it. The downside of her nap meant that she was very awake. Unfortunately, Remus needed an early night for work the next morning. With a heavy sigh, Emma cleared the notebook and went to pick up her book again.

A bristling noise from outside drew her attention towards the windows, and she let out a sharp gasp. Having memories of Fenrir in any capacity was not doing her any favors. Soleil seemed to embrace Fenrir, apparently just as confused as Emma was over the entire situation and didn't respond like normal. Emma felt entirely betrayed by herself, and she shot Fenrir a glare.

"You are literally in a bush," Emma snapped, slamming her book closed. "What is wrong with you?"

"I was enjoying the view."

Emma became very aware of what she was wearing and very quickly. She yanked her sheet up to cover herself. "Show's over, you bastard," Emma snarled. "Will you leave?"

"Wasn't planning on it."

Emma growled; her dresser was across the room. If she had her wand, she would just summon a shirt, but she didn't, and she was still useless with wandless magic. Her blue flames weren't going to be much help.

"Come out with me," Fenrir said suddenly.

"Why?"

"It's a beautiful night, and I have a feeling you'll be up for a while considering you took a little field trip," Fenrir said with a pointed look. "I guarantee it's nicer out here than in there."

Emma considered it for a moment. He had a point, as annoying as it was, and she wouldn't be sleeping for a few more hours, if at all.

"All right, well, could you at least…leave so I can get changed?" The amused look that crossed Fenrir's face told her that he wasn't doing anything of the sort. "You're so fucking annoying," Emma growled, gathering the blanket around her body so she could cross the room to her dresser to get changed.

"And you're no fun. Not often I get to look at something as pretty as you."

Emma leaned back to look out the double windows to give Fenrir an incredulous look. "You are absolutely disgusting. Did you do this shit when I was younger?"

"Never. But now you've got curves. They're nice to look at."

"Oh my God," Emma said as she pulled a shirt over her head. "Being perved on by a werewolf was not high up on my list of things to do this summer, thank you." Emma pulled on a pair of jeans and glared at Fenrir, crossing her arms. "You know what, I've changed my mind. I'm staying here. I'd rather melt."

"Come on," Fenrir insisted. "I'll stop. I swear."

"I really don't know that I believe that."

"You have my word."

Emma was very dubious of that claim. "Where are you thinking of going?"

"The river. It's out of the way, and it'll be cooler."

Somehow that was enough to convince Emma to let Fenrir help her out the window to go to the river. No one checked on her once her light was out, and she wasn't too concerned even if they did.

Being at the river was undoubtedly tranquil. It was peaceful enough to still her thoughts for a moment. The air was much cooler, and she wasn't anywhere near as hot as she was indoors. Even Soleil was quiet, appeased by being outdoors and surrounded by the city's small bits of nature. She felt comfortable enough to take off her boots and cuff her jeans to dip her feet into the water. Fenrir seemed much calmer than before, and Emma felt relatively safe around him, something she swore would be impossible.

It was strange that she didn't feel the need to fill the silence with Fenrir, much like how she didn't need to fill it with her father. Perhaps it had come with age as she had always felt the need to talk to Fenrir as a child. Maybe she felt much more stable in her opinions and how people felt about her. She wasn't entirely sure. Emma swung her legs lazily in the murky water, watching the way the waxing moon rippled in its reflection. Where was she meant to go from here? What were the next steps?

"You're awfully quiet," Fenrir said, his gaze sharp as he stared down at Emma sitting at his side.

Emma gave a slight shrug. "I don't have anything to say."

"I would think you have a lot to say now that you've got some of your thoughts back in your head," he said, tapping Emma's had with a finger.

Emma huffed out a laugh. "All I do is think," Emma said, holding her hand up to check for the tremor. Her tremors mellowed out considerably after being with her father. "This seems to be an issue all over again, though."

"I couldn't stop that completely," Fenrir said, inclining his head towards Emma's hand. "I did what I could for you."

"I suppose I should thank you for that, at least," Emma muttered. "But why didn't you do more for me? Fenrir, what was the purpose of me not knowing any of this?"

"You were never meant to forget who I was. You trusted me, and then when I saw you again, you didn't. You were never one to easily be influenced, so I knew that didn't come from your father."

"But everything else?"

"I told you, as soon as I have everything, you'll understand. I can almost guarantee that you'll see why you need me and what loyalty means."

"Fenrir, there is absolutely nothing you show me that will ever make me need you again," Emma said sharply.

"Oh, you will when Jude decides he's tired of waiting," Fenrir drawled. "Which I imagine will be very soon."

Emma fell quiet at the mention of Jude. "You said his name was Judas yesterday? Is that true?"

"Ironic name, isn't it? Judas Alexander Nickels. Fitting name for the bastard," Fenrir said, casting Emma a thoughtful look. "You don't know anything about him, do you?"

"None of us do," Emma admitted. "Dad doesn't, Grandpa doesn't, Papa doesn't –"

"Papa?"

"Sirius is Papa."

"Didn't paint him as a 'Papa' but all right…"

"He's _my_ Papa, thank you," Emma said in annoyance. She watched as Fenrir reached into his front pocket of the flannel he was wearing. He pulled out what Emma was sure was a joint, holding it between his fingers, and she arched an eyebrow at Fenrir curiously. "Really?"

"Good night for it. Don't even tell me you're so uptight that a little weed gets your knickers in a bunch," Fenrir said, his gaze turning to Emma curiously. He studied Emma closely for a moment, and a surprised look crossed his face in understanding. "You smoke."

Emma immediately flushed, gnawing on her lower lip.

_No._

"Yes," she found herself saying stupidly. She ran her hands down her face as she eyed the joint. "It's been a while."

Fenrir nodded, amused by the sudden turn of events. "With or without tobacco?"

"Without," Emma said. "Won't touch it otherwise."

"Magic or Muggle?"

"Depends on the strain for magic. Prefer Muggle because I know what I'm getting into."

"Well, well," Fenrir said, digging back into his pocket to procure a second joint. "You're in luck. First one's free," he said, leaning towards her with a wolfish smile.

Emma's eyes flicked between the joint in Fenrir's hands and the werewolf, not sure she believed him. To her utter horror, he laughed – that same bark-like laugh he had in Hogsmeade, one that sounded of genuine mirth.

"I'm kidding. Besides, I think you need it," he said, shoving the joint into Emma's hand. "Never would have guessed a sweet little thing like you would smoke."

Emma knew she should hand the joint back to Fenrir, but she dared to hold it between her teeth, eyes narrowed slightly. "If you knew me, you would know there's nothing sweet about me," Emma said, raising her eyebrows. She nodded to the joint in his hand. "Need a light?" she offered. Fenrir, of course, accepted with even further amusement.

"That explains why you can't make the flames bigger," Fenrir said, taking a hit as he watched Emma.

"Yes, well, it's a neat little party trick," Emma said, taking a hit, holding it, and letting out her breath in a slow plume of smoke.

Smoking weed with Fenrir Greyback was also not on her list of things to do for the summer, but it at least made more sense. She couldn't remember the last time she had smoked at all. Sometime before exams? She recalled lazing around the lake with Justin trying to hide the smoke and giggling for seemingly hours. Perhaps it was when her father caught her up in the Astronomy tower smoking, and he decided to join her. That was a good night. Time had blended so closely together while at Hogwarts that she wasn't even sure.

She began to giggle as a new thought suddenly took hold. "Oh, the Prophet would really have a good time with this one. I can see the headline – Emma Lupin Found Smoking Weed with Werewolf Fenrir Greyback Near River. Should sell the bloody story myself, considering what they've been writing. Might fetch a few Galleons for that one."

"Not Emelyn Nickels?" Fenrir questioned.

"Of course not, haven't you seen? Depends on the day – Emma Lupin when I'm a convict; Emelyn Nickels when they try to make me look innocent."

"God, that always was a stupid name."

"Emelyn?"

"Dreadful fucking name to give a child. Jude's stupid fucking idea."

"Yes, well, I was the one who had to live with it, though Dad's isn't better…Remus Lupin," Emma said, allowing herself to laugh as Fenrir snickered. "I think Dad got it far worse than I."

"His name at least makes sense – he's a werewolf."

"Yes, because you made him one, you arse. Bet you had yourself a right little giggle when you realized."

Fenrir gave a slight shrug, "I might have. Fitting name for a werewolf. Emelyn Theodosia is not."

"And my name now?"

"Emma Hope sounds a hell of a lot better than Emelyn Theodosia. Trying to say it is like having balls in your mouth."

"Know a lot about having balls in your mouth, eh Fenrir?" Emma asked, a gleeful smirk on her face as she looked over at Fenrir and snorting as he rolled his eyes. There was a hint of a smile on his lips, and Emma felt she had won a small victory.

"Didn't know you had a sense of humor," he noted.

"Funny how that happens," Emma said sagely. "It's like I've got a mind of my own. Imagine that."

Fenrir inclined his head, a slight smile on his face, and silence fell for a moment. They never did finish their conversation, and Emma took a long hit off her joint. She wasn't done. It was longer than she should've taken, nearly forcing her to cough, but she pushed through. She genuinely hoped her summer couldn't get any stranger than this.

"None of us know anything about Jude," Emma said slowly. "I've tried to figure out who he is, but there's nothing."

"That's on purpose," Fenrir said after a moment. "Went from Judas to Jude, thought it would be easiest, and that's how he went. Never gave a middle name to anyone if he could help it. It's a wonder he never changed his surname just to try and hide. He didn't want people to know what he truly was."

"And what's that?"

An amused smile crossed Fenrir's face. "A Muggle-born."

Emma frowned slightly at that piece of information. "Jude's a Muggle-born? How do you know all of this, anyway?"

"Research, Rabbit, research," Fenrir said, sounding almost business-like in his tone. Emma could almost see him as a sly and charismatic salesperson, and she peered at the joint in her hand. Maybe he was. "I like to know what I'm getting into before getting into it. I wouldn't have gotten so far if I didn't."

"But Ellis said –"

"Ellis is full of shit and can't be trusted. His wife has more balls than he does and far more sense. The boy, whatever his name is, is like Sage. Persephone's very like her father."

"Sage has been kind to me," Emma commented quietly, pulling her feet out of the water to pull her knees up.

"Because she actually likes you. Can you trust her?" Fenrir shrugged. "I can't say either way. But you put your trust in the wrong people."

"Fenrir, how was I to know about Persephone? No one bloody told me that I grew up with her, which – by the way, is one of the things I can't recall."

"And you will."

"But that doesn't explain what you said before, about Jude being tired of waiting," Emma said. "What does that mean?"

"Think about that for a minute, Rabbit. You're smart," Fenrir said. "In fact – you have told him straight to his face. The look on his face was priceless…"

Emma didn't want to think about it, didn't want to entertain the thought that she had been right the entire time. Her stomach sank.

"There's never been anything wrong with Jude," Emma said, not bothering to phrase it as a question. Fenrir inclined his head slightly, and Emma nodded. She could live with knowing that bit of truth, even if she didn't know what it meant.

But then Emma's stomach knotted tightly, and bile rose up her throat at a sudden thought that sprang to mind. What if they missed something so glaringly obvious? What if things could have been different?

"Fenrir…if Jude has been fine this entire time...does that mean nothing was ever wrong with my mother?"

Fenrir was quiet and leaned back on his free hand, staring up at the moon. It was a long while before he answered, and Emma could only stare at him, not sure that she wanted to know the answer. He took a hit of his joint, casting his gaze across the water, letting out the smoke slowly.

"Took you long enough."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	9. Pack Differences

Emma had finally reached the point where she couldn't cry anymore. The rest of the night was spent in silence. Emma didn't know what to say, and Fenrir understood her need to process everything. When she was ready to leave, he followed in silence, only getting close enough to help her back into her room. At least he had the sense to stay outside and not join her, sitting outside her window again like a silent sentry.

When she woke up, she was annoyed to find that Fenrir had clearly come into her room at some point before he left. She certainly didn't fall asleep with the thin blanket covering her, but it was welcome. The temperature dropped considerably as the rain decided to make an appearance.

She felt stupid for not considering the need for wellies and a raincoat as she watched the rain fall harder and harder. She had grown so used to her life at the cottage that rain wasn't even a factor – she could just stay indoors. At the bare minimum, an umbrella would have been smart. With a heavy sigh, Emma decided to get up. It was going to be a long day.

It hadn't even been a full week at the children's home, and Emma was completely and utterly over being there. She had been spoiled being home, and she knew it, but it didn't stop her from wanting to go right back. The temptation to take the bus into the closest town and just walking home was right at the forefront of her mind. Unfortunately, even if she went back home, no one would be there, and she didn't have her keys to even pretend to be non-magical. Remus was working until the late afternoon, and Elara was at work until noon. She had no idea at all where Sirius would be, and no one had heard from him.

The more she tried to focus on other things, the less she found she could. How could nothing have been wrong with her mother? Did that mean she had suffered the entire time she was in St. Mungo's? Her mother didn't seem like the sort of person who backed down without a fight. Emma couldn't even begin to piece together anything that made any sense, and she couldn't bring herself to ask Fenrir. Jude she understood, had known since the first time she saw him, but her mother, too? It seemed ludicrous, impossible – Fenrir had to be lying to her, but Emma wasn't entirely sure that was true.

So far, Fenrir hadn't lied to her. What purpose would it serve for him to lie to her over something so significant? Emma stopped right in the middle of the busy walkway, ignoring the indignant shouts of the people who had to scramble to get around her. It would make sense for him to tell her that her mother had been fine the entire time. If she had been fine, they all would have known…but Margaret spoke just before she passed. It was only Emma's name, but there was enough recognition there.

Emma decided it was better to believe that Fenrir was lying to her. She couldn't imagine the possibility that they had all failed her. Emma was grateful that it was raining hard so that it wouldn't be obvious that she started crying. The summer was shaping up to be even worse than the last.

Even though Emma knew that Remus didn't cashier, she still found herself looking at the registers out of sheer principle when she walked into Sainsbury's. It was jarring how much clearer the memory suddenly became. She wished that Fenrir would have explained just how new every memory would feel, but she felt he probably didn't know.

Remus was already looking up when she found him, clearly anticipating her arrival. She still wasn't quite sure what tipped him off to when she was around, especially in public settings. It wasn't something she wanted to ask him, but she desperately wanted to. He stopped what he was doing, blinking at Emma in surprise, looking slightly embarrassed. His embarrassment was overshadowed by confusion as he took a good look at Emma and frowned. "You are completely soaked through," he said. "Why did you come out?"

"I couldn't stay there," Emma said, her voice breaking.

Remus straightened up slowly, concerned. "What is it, baby?"

Emma let out a whimper, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. "I…I need a hug, but I'm drenched," she said.

Remus held his arms open with an understanding smile. "Come here, baby girl," he said, holding Emma tight when she stepped into his embrace. "I would never deny you a hug. Even if you smell like wet dog…"

"I don't smell like wet dog, do I? I didn't think that I would when I don't…" Emma trailed off as she tried to calm her mild panic at the idea. She tried to move away from Remus out of worry and the dawning realization he was teasing her. Remus snickered, holding Emma exactly where she was, and Emma huffed, hugging Remus tighter to get his clothes wet. "You're terrible…"

"Trust me, if you smelled like a wet dog, I would never tell you. Besides, I already told you that you smell just like sunshine to me." Emma gave a non-committal hum in response as she buried her face into his chest. "But what is? What's happened now?"

"I'm not sure you would believe me."

"Try me."

"Right here?"

Remus stepped back from Emma, considering it for a moment, and then sighed. "Let's get you dried off." Remus looked down at his clothes and sighed. "Let's get me dried off, too."

Hidden somewhere in the corner of the store, Emma told Remus what had happened the night before. He very carefully cast drying charms on her clothes, adding a few for warmth just to bring her body temperature back up. Emma wasn't sure which parts of her story he was displeased about as his eyes darkened slightly at each twist. He would never voice his displeasure, careful not to hurt her feelings, but his purposely blank expression made her worried.

When Emma had finished her story, Remus suddenly looked down at his watch. "I've chosen a very convenient time to fall ill," he said dryly. "Come on, we're going to go home for a bit."

It was fitting that Emma and Remus were sitting at the kitchen table nursing cups of tea when Elara arrived. A flash of understanding crossed Elara's face as she took in their expressions. She knew that something was terribly wrong if Emma was home. Rather than question it, Elara fixed herself a cup of tea and sat down to join them, not bothering to change out of her Healer robes.

"All we're missing is a very hairy black dog to join us," Elara said, taking a slow sip. "Now what's happened?"

Remus finally let his mask slip as Emma went through her story for the second time. He wasn't thrilled about any of it, but Emma knew he still wouldn't say a word. There was nothing he could do to change anything in their present situation.

"I haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary with Jude, but that doesn't mean that you're wrong," Elara said thoughtfully. "Judas? Really?" she questioned after a moment.

"It gives us something to look into," Remus said. "If that's really his name, it'll be easier to look up whatever records there are. There was no doubt he was very secretive, especially around us."

"But it sounds like he's been in contact with Fenrir and Ellis," Emma said.

"That doesn't mean anything, though," Elara said. "I've seen Ellis come and go."

"Which means Fenrir can be getting his information from Ellis and not directly from Jude," Remus added.

"He has to be talking to Jude, though," Elara said.

"Jude's not an Animagus, too, is he?"

"We would know," Elara pointed out, tapping her nose. Emma wrinkled her nose at the reminder and took a long sip of her tea just to avoid saying anything. "I'm going to try and move my shifts to the ward so I can keep an eye on him and be on call for bites."

"Is that wise so close to the full?" Remus questioned.

"Other than Ward coming in, it's been slow. I've been bouncing around to where they've needed me."

"Ward?" Emma asked in alarm. "What happened?"

Elara grimaced and apologized to Remus. "She's going to find out anyway," Elara said to Remus before explaining to Emma what exactly happened. Emma was very white-faced and slowly turned to Remus with wide eyes.

"Daddy, you lied about something when we first met again," Emma said softly.

"What did I lie about?" Remus asked.

"You lied and told me that we need our memories to become stronger and that they're important for us to become the people we're meant to be," Emma said over the top of her cup. "I hate this. I don't like that all I can remember is random moments at the children's home. I hate that all I can remember is Fenrir. I just want to remember you, and I want to remember Papa, and I want to remember mum. I don't…This all _hurts,_ and I'm so confused. I didn't ask for any of this, and I don't really like Ward, but that doesn't mean I wanted something to happen to him. I know what Fenrir is, but now I'm stuck with this weird version of him in my mind that doesn't fit what I know."

"Knowledge is power," Elara said gently. "This is going to be like everything else. You are going to need time. If you had these memories before, you would have had an easier time separating your feelings. You've had nearly a decade worth of memories thrust at you and unexpectedly."

"And there'll be more!" Emma said, slamming her cup down on the table. "I don't know that I want them, I really don't! You both know that Fenrir would never listen to me!"

Neither Remus nor Elara could argue that point, but they were both skilled in deflection. Elara took advantage of the situation to bring up the potential of Emma taking ballet again while she was in the children's home. It was such a sudden and unexpected twist that Emma's anxiety was momentarily forgotten, and the conversation shifted.

Emma wasn't sure that she wanted to take ballet again, not wanting to give Remus another thing to spend money on. She knew that dance classes couldn't be cheap, and he did more than enough for her. When Elara said she had already paid for several classes, Emma was floored.

"Elle, I don't know –"

"Emma, it sounded like it was something you enjoyed growing up. Since you can't do magic right now, we want you to at least find something enjoyable while you're here," Elara said, trying to keep Emma from protesting further. "Humor me – the both of us, please. If you're elegant on the Quidditch pitch like your father says, I can only imagine how you are with dance."

"I'm really not…a good dancer," Emma said weakly. She wasn't sure if she was any good, she wasn't a dance teacher, after all, but it made her nervous. What if she really liked it like she liked Quidditch?

Elara cast Remus a knowing look and leaned towards Emma. "I have a feeling that you are, and you don't want to show us," she said with a grin. "Besides, I need to be the cool aunt and spoil my niece."

"Cool aunt?" Emma questioned, a smile slowly creeping on her lips.

"Someone needs to play the role," Elara winked, nudging Remus's side.

"I have no clue when this happened," Remus said to Emma, his arms crossed. "I've just accepted it because Elara refuses to give up. Congratulations, you have inherited an annoying aunt."

It turned out to be the thing that Emma didn't even know that she needed. Rather than disrupt Emma's memories, Elara suggested going back to the dance school she started in. The familiarity of the building put her at ease, but Emma was thoroughly embarrassed to have to go through a consult. It meant being able to put off purchasing dance clothes, something that gave Emma mild anxiety. What if she wasn't good enough? She worried that she would have to start all over again since it had been so long. It took her a few moments to remember the terminology, but muscle memory kicked in quickly.

Emma found herself giggling through her consult at the sheer hilarity at how much she found herself thinking of Quidditch. It wasn't professional of her, and she was grateful the teacher was on the younger side and had a sense of humor. She felt silly telling the woman that she kept thinking about football, the only Quidditch equivalent she could think of, but the teacher understood. It apparently wasn't the first time she had heard someone compare ballet to another sport. If only the poor woman knew what Emma was laughing about.

It was going to be a comfortable ache she felt when she went to bed, thoroughly stretched out and loose. Emma had no idea that something so simple would lift her spirits so much – and she hadn't even had a real lesson yet. She was delighted to hear that she wouldn't have to start all over again and could be placed back where she had left off. It would take her time to get caught up, and despite Emma protesting, Elara decided private lessons would be best. With the summer term coming to a close, Elara didn't want Emma to lose out on any extra time. Emma never felt more loved or luckier to have Elara in her life.

Even though the day started out rough, it ended well. Fenrir didn't arrive that night, but someone else did. Emma had to cover her mouth to stifle her scream when she saw a completely different face staring at her through her window.

"Who the fuck are you?" she hissed, staring at the boy looking at her curiously. The boy couldn't have been that much older than her. He had longish honey-colored hair with light brown eyes. A small scar cut through his eyebrow, and a clear bite mark could be seen on his neck. She had been expecting Fenrir, not an entirely different werewolf and certainly not one so young.

"Boris," he said, sniffing the air and frowning. "Fenrir said you were a werewolf. You smell like us, but you don't."

Emma shook her head, trying to clear her head. This was getting weird. "Where the fuck is Fenrir? Why are _you_ here?"

Boris looked very offended. "I'm one of Fenrir's best," he said, puffing out his chest and straightening up.

"Wonderful, that's not what I asked," Emma said. "Where is Fenrir?"

"He had somewhere to be. Didn't want you to be alone just in case, so he brought me before leaving," Boris huffed, crossing his arms and giving Emma a once over. He sniffed the air again, and Emma rolled her eyes. She could only imagine what he was trying to decipher from her scent alone.

"Are you going to stay out there and try to sniff me? If you're so fascinated, you might as well come in."

"Can't."

"Why not? It's raining."

Boris shook his head. "Alpha's orders."

Of course.

"He doesn't need to know," Emma shrugged. "I'm sure you're much better company than Fenrir. Other than complaining about me not smelling werewolf-y enough, I suppose you're all right." When the boy didn't make any moves, Emma found herself at a loss. "You said your name is Boris?" Emma asked, biting back her amused grin when he nodded. "That's what I named my teddy bear."

"Your what?"

"My…teddy bear?"

"What's that?"

 _Jesus, Mary, and Joseph – and Merlin's saggy tits, for good measure,_ Emma thought to herself, staring at Boris in utter horror. "You don't know what a teddy bear is?" Boris shook his head, and a stream of expletives that would surely make her father blush in embarrassment left her lips. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen," Boris said slowly. "Why?"

"Good, we're the same age. Get your arse in here and out of the rain. Fenrir can bugger right off if he has something to say about it. I won't let him do anything to you."

Boris seemed doubtful of the claim but slowly slipped through Emma's window with all the ease she expected him to have. He was tall, and Emma let out a shout as he shook himself out like a dog sending water droplets everywhere. Boris acted every part of a wolf and gave her a lopsided smile, showing sharp teeth. Did they _all_ have oddly sharp teeth? It was unnatural, and Emma had to ask her father about it because Remus had very ordinary, slightly crooked teeth.

"My God, if I tell you to sit, are you going to do that?" Emma said, wiping off her face of water droplets and watching in horror as Boris sat down immediately where he was. "Why did you just sit?"

"You told me to."

"I…buggering fuck, Boris. If I tell you to go back outside and run laps around the building, would you do that, _too_?"

Boris was quick on his feet and halfway out the window when Emma shouted for him to stop. He looked at her in confusion. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked, forehead wrinkling as his thick brows knit together.

"Yes!" Emma said sharply. "What are you doing?"

"You told me to go –"

"I was asking you if you would!"

"And I would, so what did I do wrong?"

Emma could only stare at Boris in confusion, not understanding the underlying distress in his face. "Why are you listening to me, Boris?"

"Because Fenrir told me to."

"But you didn't come in the first time."

"It was a test. If you insisted that I come in, I was to listen to you."

"But _why_?" Boris hesitated, and Emma arched an eyebrow. "Boris? _Tell me_."

"The alpha wants you as his mate," he said by way of explanation.

Emma gagged at the declaration. She already knew that, but it wasn't any better to hear out loud, especially from someone she didn't know. "Right, but what does that mean? I don't understand."

"He's given you a higher rank than me," Boris explained. "As his mate, he's given you privileges and says that I have to listen to you." Boris gave Emma a funny look. "You're a werewolf, aren't you? Didn't your pack teach you this?"

Right. Emma forgot that Fenrir ran his packs as if they were actual wolves but took advantage of the human aspect. She was sure that Fenrir made his own rules up as he went along, so she could only imagine what Boris knew.

"I'm afraid that my pack did not," Emma said, hoping she masked her face well enough so that it didn't betray how weird she felt saying it out loud. She had joked about it before, but now it seemed the terminology was required for Boris to understand her. "We do things differently in my pack."

"Is that why you're here? Because your pack does things differently?" Boris asked curiously, looking around Emma's room. "Fenrir said someone took you away from your pack before you were ready."

"They did take me away before I was ready," Emma said bitterly. She thought about it for a moment, tilting her head from side to side. "I suppose you could say it's because we do things differently."

Boris nodded, still half in, half out of the room, and Emma sighed. "Boris, come in and sit down. You're allowed to relax," she said, grateful that the boy finally decided to come back into the room but not looking any less stressed.

"I don't know how to relax," he admitted, looking around the room. He sniffed the air and looking at Emma curiously again.

"Yes, _I am bleeding_ ," Emma huffed in annoyance. "Don't be weird about it."

"Sorry," Boris murmured, casting his eyes downward and making Emma feel guilty about it. "I just…I smelled blood, and I was curious. But I'm also trying to figure out why you smell familiar to me." Boris inhaled deeply, and Emma's face twisted in disgust. She shouldn't be so bothered, he was young, but it was still weird. "Fenrir said to take whatever punishment you give," he suddenly said.

"Punishment? Punishment for what?"

"Disobeying you. I don't know that I can follow all of your orders. It's too –"

"Difficult, I understand," Emma said. She frowned as she looked at Boris. Being a werewolf was all he knew, and Emma wondered just how long the boy had been in Fenrir's pack. She studied Boris a little closer and brought her hand up to her mouth in realization. Boris had to have been one of the werewolf children Fenrir introduced her to when she was younger.

Her teddy bear had to be named after this boy – his hair was the same color as the bear's fur, and he had the same light brown eyes. That made the poor bear's name even weirder. At least Bee was Bee for no reason other than it was easy for her to say. She smelled familiar to him because she _was_ familiar, she just looked different.

With a heavy sigh, Emma crouched down in front of Boris, tilting her head to get in his line of vision.

"Boris?"

"Yes?"

"Your punishment is to not tell Fenrir the truth of what happens tonight," Emma said slowly.

Boris's eyes snapped up to meet hers. "But Fenrir is –"

Emma felt it was very manipulative what she was doing, but this was what Boris knew. It was strange to her, but this was his everyday life. If she had power, she was using it for good and not evil. She wasn't Fenrir.

"I know what Fenrir is, but I'm telling you it won't be okay if you don't listen to me about your punishment," Emma said. "I'll…I'll come up with another one if you disobey me. That would be something Fenrir understands, right?"

Boris seemed terribly unsure, his confident resolve breaking, but he nodded. Emma stayed where she was for a moment and sat down next to him on the floor. She wasn't going to let him on her bed when he was soaking wet, but she didn't want to be rude and stay on her bed. The floor would have to do. Boris seemed off-put by the action and gulped, wary of her. Emma didn't like it.

"Why don't you tell me what your pack is like," Emma said after a while. Emma knew that if she asked Elara, she would get answers, but Remus would never answer her questions the way she wanted. Boris would give her an unfiltered view of life among werewolves.

Emma learned that that Fenrir seemed to be a mostly fair leader. He was mercurial but cared for his pack provided everyone kept in line. Everyone had a role, a place within the pack, no part unimportant unless you were at the lowest possible rank. Werewolf pack life was similar to real wolf pack life when it came to children – everyone cared for them. There weren't many, but the ones that were there were well-loved. Whether or not they were turned by Fenrir or not didn't matter; they were all considered his children. There were more males in the pack than females as females didn't often survive to turn. Fenrir was apparently delighted that Emma would be guaranteed to survive her bite because of her blood.

 _Lucky me. Thanks, Dad_ , she thought to herself.

Females weren't treated any differently than the males, which made Emma ill. It meant that the women were hit just as often as the men. They weren't considered property and had free-will, but they were expected to submit to the men. The children were off-limits for punishment and were encouraged to be active, fighting amongst their playing and learning. If a werewolf was turned when they were older, the expectation was that their wand would be broken. They were werewolves first, wizards never. Wands were useless to werewolves, at least that's what Fenrir said, according to Boris. Emma doubted that anyone in the pack realized Fenrir had a wand at all. It took Emma a while to understand that children learned magic, but it wasn't magic – it was considered "their gift."

Werewolf magic was different, more reliant on the earth. They knew how to use their powers and use them well. Werewolf magic was old and ancient magic and relied on connection; connections to the earth, connections to their wolf, connections to each other. Their connections made everything about their predatory nature easier – hunting, tracking, and sneaking were aided by their magic. The wolf was meant to be an extension of a werewolf's self, not a second personality. Boris was only Boris – not Boris and who he was before.

The more she learned, the more it explained why her father was so skilled and powerful. He saw both sides of life and picked the pieces he liked and would benefit from. He took advantage of the power he had, making him a fierce dueler, but he avoided letting Moony forward. There were things that her father couldn't avoid, his heightened senses and impulses, but other things he ignored because it meant relying on Moony.

Touch was such a vital component to being a werewolf, something that Emma had started to work out herself. She had always found it funny how quick Remus was willing to humor her and snuggle at almost any given time. It was soothing for him just like it was for her – it was an innate need for packmates to be close. Sleeping together in piles in the pack was expected, both expected and needed for their well-being and comfort. She idly wondered if that was the same for Sirius as a dog Animagus. It would better explain why both her fathers were more than all right with her intrusions – they were truly their own little pack.

What Emma didn't realize was how much touch actually did. She knew about the pain transference, had experienced that herself, but she didn't entirely understand the other things Boris told her. The near-telepathic connection that could be shared left her frazzled. She didn't realize that it was _all the time_ and wasn't left to just their wolf forms. It wasn't the type of telepathy where she could just hop into her mind and talk to her father like in movies. If there was no physical connection, the mental link didn't exist.

There were levels to their telepathy; not all werewolves could do it successfully. The stronger you were, the more likely a werewolf could do it. With a sickening jolt in Emma's stomach, she realized that's how Fenrir knew Soleil's name. He knew how to pull Soleil forward to ask himself without Emma even picking up on it. That was important information her father could have told her.

It was bizarre to Emma to find out that she was spoken of among the pack, especially recently. As far as the pack knew, she didn't really exist, she was only a stroy. Her father seemed to hold a special place within the pack – he was Fenrir's first successful turn. It gave her a baseline to understand her strange status. Emma and her father were the exceptions to the rules. It wasn't just her that Fenrir wanted; he was determined to have them both.

Her wolf having a name had been a cause for celebration, just like it was for each new werewolf. Births and deaths were celebrated and given reverence, but name days were extraordinary occasions. She couldn't imagine what that could be like and tried to picture dozens of werewolves she didn't know celebrating her. It was the sort of thing that you read in stories, strange fantasies for the power-hungry – it was never meant to be real.

"Fenrir said you would be joining us soon," Boris said into the silence that settled between them.

"I'm sure he did," Emma murmured.

"Is it true?"

That was a difficult question for her to answer, and it scared her because a part of her wanted to say yes. She wanted revenge, but she didn't know what she wanted revenge on. Her mind was pulled in too many different directions. "I don't know," Emma admitted.

"Soleil?"

Emma jolted at the use of her wolf's name, not expecting it. It was still strange to her, and she wasn't sure she would ever get used to it. "Yes?"

"You're, uhm, you're very kind."

"That's the way of my pack," Emma said slowly. "I won't tell Fenrir about what you told me."

"You won't…you won't tell Fenrir any of this?"

"Never. Fenrir has no power over me, even if he thinks he does."

Boris's eyes widened in surprise, and he opened his mouth several times to speak but promptly closed it. That was the last they spoke until Emma decided she couldn't stay awake any longer. Boris was instructed not to harm her, and Fenrir's orders held a strange power over the boy. She wasn't worried about falling asleep with the boy in her room, though it was odd.

Emma had a lot of research to do. Once again, everything had changed, but Emma's path was much clearer. It wouldn't be right then, but she would have to join Fenrir's pack if she was going to change anything. She had figured out why her father failed his mission in overthrowing Fenrir's reign – he didn't start with the children.

Never in her life did she think she would actively look forward to taking Wolfsbane. She was already exhausted. The dull throb in her head that hadn't quite left came back full force, but her cramps had subsided, and the rain had stopped. It would be the first day that she wouldn't see her father or Elara, and she had no idea what she would do. Remus was expected at the Ministry to discuss his arrangements for the full moon and her custody case. She knew both were important things to do, but she still felt disappointed. Elara was starting her double shifts at St. Mungo's to prepare for the next week, meaning she was unavailable as well.

She was still in bed, staring at her notebook, re-reading her conversation with Remus before he had to leave.

' _You have to ask Ward for the potion, sweetheart. Severus is very busy and couldn't stay very long._ '

That was the last thing Emma wanted to do, but she knew the sooner she had it, the better. With a heavy sigh, Emma gathered her things to hide them on her person and made the walk to Ward's office.

She stood outside his door for a few minutes before knocking anxiously. The idea of just skipping the potion crossed her mind the moment she did it, and she started to turn back to leave, but the door opened. With a shaky breath, Emma pushed the door open, keeping her eyes cast downward.

"Oh. It's you," Ward said. "What do you want?"

"I, uhm…I'm here for my potion, sir," Emma said, fidgeting nervously.

"What potion?"

"The…Wolfsbane Potion?"

"I thought you said you weren't a werewolf. What do you need that for?"

Emma forced herself to look at Ward, gulping as she took in his appearance. Outwardly, other than the eyepatch across his left eye, she wouldn't know anything was wrong with him. He sat behind his desk, staring at her with disgust. She took a quick look around the room, hoping that the potion was just sitting somewhere. She knew what it looked like and would recognize the vial, but none was found.

"I'm…not a werewolf, sir, but I still get very ill without the potion," Emma said quietly.

"Well, nothing's come for you," Ward said with a slight shrug.

That didn't sit well with Emma when Remus very specifically wrote to her and said Snape had stopped at the children's home with the potion first. "Are you sure?" Emma asked. "I…Professor Snape should have brought it."

"Professor Snape has not been by," Ward said dismissively, picking up a pen and turning his attention to the papers on his desk. "If he arrives, someone will let you know."

Emma stood in the doorway for a moment, her stomach sinking. The first day without Wolfsbane wouldn't be terrible, the effects only just starting to kick in. Maybe Snape truly didn't bring the potion. She wouldn't put it past him, but she had hoped that he wouldn't make her suffer.

"All right," Emma finally said. "T-thank you."

Rather than dwell on it for too long, Emma decided to wander the children's home in between naps. She was starving, but she didn't want to go out if she wasn't seeing her father or Elara. Out of curiosity, Emma finally made her way to the tree she had buried a shoebox under. She dug into the still-wet dirt, not having to search far to find the box.

It had never occurred to her as a child that the box should have been destroyed, but it had been charmed to repel the rain and dirt. Every rock had a story attached to it, some of her own, some with Fenrir, some shared. There were quite a few that she didn't recognize, and she frowned slightly. Fenrir had told her he still added rocks out of habit. To give herself something to do, Emma decided to bring the strange box of different shaped stones in. The rocks had stories to tell, and it wouldn't hurt to remember them.

Emma eventually made her way up to the girl's dormitory. She decided to stop by her old room, glad that its current occupants weren't present. Emma huffed out a quiet laugh, touching the doorframe. How many times did Jocelyn shove her into the doorway just to be a brat and get into the room first? Emma had lost count.

She was lost in thought when she heard someone clear their throat behind her. A girl just a little shorter than her with auburn hair was looking at her curiously.

"I'm sorry, but you're in my way," the girl said, scratching her head as she studied Emma. "You're new."

Emma gave the girl a small smile. "Not new, just back temporarily," Emma said. "Is this your room?"

The girl nodded, and Emma stepped aside. "Why were you staring into my room like that?" the girl asked.

"Oh," Emma laughed, gesturing to the bunk bed. "That bed over there used to be mine, right at the top."

"Really? That's where I sleep."

Emma took a look at the girl and nearly burst into laughter. They were different and yet so similar. Auburn hair, brown eyes, pale skin – the girl in front of her reminded her of herself. Hogwarts letters still hadn't gone out yet, and Emma just had a weird feeling this girl was magic. She was going to be disappointed if she was wrong. "How old are you?" Emma asked curiously.

"I'm eleven," the girl answered, her brow furrowing slightly. "Why?"

"Was just wondering," Emma said, her smile widening. "I'll leave you alone. Sorry for intruding."

Emma was nearly at the door to leave when the girl called out to her.

"How old are you?" the girl asked.

"I'm fourteen," Emma replied. "Why?"

"Just wondering," the girl parroted back with a smile. "You seem familiar. Have we met?"

"Not sure. How long have you been here?"

"Only a year or two. I think," the girl said, looking unsure.

"I'm afraid not, then," Emma said. "Enjoy the rest of your night."

The week before the full moon, Emma found she came alive at night. It had been an accidental discovery at Hogwarts when Remus kept finding her up in the astronomy tower most nights. She felt the pull of the moon differently than he did, but it was there, sitting just underneath the surface.

When neither Fenrir nor Boris showed up by the time Emma's door was locked, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Gathering her things, Emma slipped out the window and out into the quiet streets, keeping to the shadows. It was well past curfew, and she didn't relish the idea of being picked up for being out after hours. That wouldn't do her any favors, and she wasn't even sure who would pick her up.

The idea of having to have Remus bail her out of the police department made her giggle as she made her way to the river. At some point, she would have to find an open corner shop to get something to eat since she hadn't eaten all day, but the river called to her. She needed to take advantage of whatever peace she could find.

The night felt nice. The muggy haze that had been surrounding the area all day had melted away to sweet breezes. Emma was almost tempted to close her eyes as she walked – she felt free. When she made it to the river, she quickly shucked off her boots, rolled up her jeans, and dipped her feet into the water. With a content sigh, Emma laid back on the grass, closing her eyes and kicking her legs lazily through the cold water. It was pure bliss.

"You know you're not supposed to be out by yourself."

Emma cracked open an eye to watch Fenrir sitting down next to her. Peace – gone.

"No one showed up, so I assumed I was on my own tonight," Emma said, not bothering to sit up. She gave the air a slight test sniff. "This whole cologne thing, while appreciated, is very odd. It smells like you just put it on."

"Because I did," Fenrir grumbled. "I didn't think you would be happy if I didn't."

"Well, thank you, I suppose," Emma said. "Where were you yesterday?"

"Busy. Carried into today, and it wasn't supposed to," Fenrir said, reaching into his pocket to pull out a box of cigarettes. He offered one to Emma, but she declined. That was one of her limits, but she offered to light it for him. "How was Boris? Obedient?"

Emma nodded, finally sitting back up. "Disturbingly so," Emma said, shooting Fenrir a look. "That was unnecessary. I don't need a watchdog, thank you."

"It's precautionary," Fenrir said, giving the air a slight sniff. "Did you not take Wolfsbane today?"

"No," Emma muttered. "And I would appreciate it if you would _not_ do that."

"Hard not to. Why didn't you take it?"

"I would think someone like you would be against the potion, not wanting to subdue the wolf and the whatnot."

"Answer the question."

Fenrir spoke like a true authoritarian, powerful and unyielding, and Emma couldn't help but cow slightly at the tone. No wonder Boris was surprised by Emma. "I, uh…wasn't given it," Emma said, looking at Fenrir with wide eyes.

"Why?"

"How in the bloody hell am I supposed to know? It wasn't like I didn't take it on purpose."

Fenrir grunted in response, and that was the end of their conversation. Emma didn't mind at all; she wasn't too sure she wanted to talk to Fenrir still.

The need for food was swept away as the desire for sleep took hold. Emma felt her eyes starting to close, and she quickly pulled her feet out of the water. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rest her head against them, ready to fall asleep right there. Emma knew that she couldn't, but she certainly wanted to.

"You're shivering," Fenrir suddenly said, startling Emma out of her sleepy haze.

She blinked at him blearily and frowned slightly as he pulled off his coat and dropped it over her shoulders. She didn't even realize that she had been cold, too tired to care. "'M fine," she said, starting to shrug his coat off. Before she had the chance to, Fenrir swiftly pulled her into his side.

"Rest," he said firmly, his grip tight on Emma's arm. "I'll bring you back. You have my word."

The rational side of her brain said to not fall asleep around Fenrir, but sleep was closing in quickly. With his grip on her arm, he wasn't giving her a choice in the matter, and she didn't have enough energy to fight it. Despite knowing it was a risk, Emma closed her eyes. Hopefully, she wouldn't regret it in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	10. Finley, Raewyn, and Brennan

Fenrir brought her back to the children's home just as he said he would. If she thought being moved around at the cottage was weird, falling asleep at the river and waking up in bed was weirder. She was surprised to see a new rock sitting next to her box of rocks – a trinket from the night. She was even more surprised to find her notebook, quill, and knife tucked under her pillow. Fenrir had thought of everything.

Her weekend was a series of the same events. Somehow Remus's single day at the Ministry turned into all weekend. Elara still had work, and Ward still didn't give her the Wolfsbane Potion. By Sunday, she realized it was on purpose, and she decided she wouldn't ask anymore; she knew she wouldn't get it. She knew that she should tell her father, but she didn't. It was better that he didn't worry, but it was slowly taking its toll on her.

Emma would sleep throughout the day and try to entertain herself with the television in the children's living room. She didn't mind as the younger children had an obsession with Disney movies, and as the "nice" resident teenager, she was in charge. It was a power she didn't take lightly, and the happy squeals at each movie pick amused her. She looked forward to the day she could torture her father with yet another Disney movie. However, if she had to watch Beauty and the Beast one more time, she would lose it. There were only so many times she could watch dancing and singing magic utensils.

Out of curiosity, Emma finally decided to venture into the computer room when it was vacated. She never bothered trying to use a computer before, and she found herself intrigued. It had Emma tempted to write to Justin and ask him what he knew about computers. They were fascinating devices, and the more Emma played around with the device, the more curious she became. She _definitely_ needed to talk to Justin about computers. It didn't seem like something Hermione would be too interested in.

When night arrived, Emma would slip out of her room to head towards the river. On Saturday night, she met Fenrir there. On Sunday, he met her half-way. Both nights he brought her something to eat from one of the local takeaways. The river was where they stayed until Emma felt ready to leave, neither saying much.

Their conversation was the same both nights. Fenrir would ask if Emma had taken the potion that day, she would give him a look and tell him no, and he would ask her why. Emma didn't understand why he kept asking her when he knew. She wanted to mention what he did to Ward still but didn't bring it up. Emma wasn't sure she wanted to know the details. Both nights he passed her a joint to help ease the effects of the upcoming moon. If he didn't, Emma wasn't entirely sure she would even get to sleep at night, and she needed a lot of it.

Monday brought back a sense of normalcy to her life for a moment, a small reminder that she could still do magic. As she was getting ready to head out, she was startled to find a massive brown owl sitting on her windowsill. She let out a long breath. Hogwarts letters were going out.

She sighed as she took the letter from the owl and watched as it flew off.

_Emelyn Nickels  
Saint Nicholas Children's Home  
Room 1 of the Staff Quarters_ _  
York_

"Well, that's unfortunate," Emma said to herself as she sat heavily on her bed. It was just like the first time she received her Hogwarts letter.

"Is that a Hogwarts letter you have in your hand, dear?"

Emma looked over at her doorway and smiled at the familiar face peering in at her. "Mrs. Bryce," Emma said. "How are you?"

"I think the better question is how are _you_?"

"All right, I suppose," Emma replied. She lifted the envelope to show the woman. "Do you suppose it's a clerical error?"

Mrs. Bryce surveyed Emma closely, and Emma felt like she was under a microscope. "I have something for you. Professor Snape had stopped by as I was leaving Ward's office," she said, giving Emma a small smile. Emma swore she would cry seeing the vial in her hand full of the blue potion. "I'm very sorry about what happened."

Mrs. Bryce stepped into the room and sat down next to Emma. She handed her the vial of Wolfsbane, and Emma downed it quickly, shuddering at the taste. Emma swore that would be the first thing she would change about the potion. She gave a slight shrug as she sat the vial down.

"We knew it was a risk. Well, I only found out in the past year, but all the same," Emma said quietly. "Did you know what my dad was? Before everything?"

"He disclosed his condition to me well before we started working on the paperwork," she said gently. "Remus was worried that his condition would keep him from being able to have you as his. But then, I suppose you always were, weren't you?"

"You know about that?" Emma asked.

Mrs. Bryce nodded. "I'm part of the decision-making board for your case. He submitted copies of entries of your mother's diary this weekend as evidence in your case. It's opened up an entirely different problem considering Mr. Sirius Black's history, but we've seen worse."

"The daughter of a werewolf and an escaped convicted murderer," Emma said with a bitter laugh. "I'm sure that's caused some interesting reactions. And of course, that's not even factoring my condition, as well."

"The responses have…varied," Mrs. Bryce said carefully. "I wanted to let you know that I'm working on behalf of you and your father. We have character witnesses that have gladly stepped in, and it's going to be a fight, but I'm going to help make sure you go home."

"You don't care that he's a werewolf?"

"If I did, I never would have supported him adopting you a few years ago," Mrs. Bryce said, gently bumping Emma's shoulder with hers. "Right from the moment I met him, he made it very evident how much he adores you. No child deserves to be taken away from a parent, especially one so devoted."

"How long are you thinking? If it's going to be a fight?"

"Not until sometime next year," Mrs. Bryce said, resting a hand on Emma's knee. "Between gathering evidence and working around anti-werewolf prejudice, it's not going to be easy. Your case is going to have to be put in front of someone several times before a decision will be made."

"And even that's not guaranteed."

"You're not going to be stuck here forever. Dumbledore is working hard to get you moved somewhere more suitable."

"Do you know where?"

"Not yet, but the goal is for you to be moved sometime next week. There's an appointment that you're expected to tell your side of things, and Dumbledore wants you settled before then."

"And when will that be?"

"After the Quidditch World Cup on the fourth. The committee wants to see how you are with your father. Fairly straight-forward, just fact-finding before things move along."

Emma nodded. She forgot about the Quidditch World Cup coming up, only vaguely remembering that she saw it in the Prophet. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as the Wolfsbane finally started to settle in, and she didn't feel as ill as before.

"He's not going to give up, and as I've been pointing out, when your father adopted you, it created a life-long bond between you two. Remember, the words said then? Not even death will break that bond, and no amount of magic will ever destroy it. The fact you look exactly like him shows me that there's no doubt of who you belong to, that he took the chance to make you entirely his."

"It's like looking in a mirror…except he's quite tall, and I'm very short."

"Good things come in small packages, and I dare say you're the best thing that's ever happened to him," Mrs. Bryce said with a smile. "In other news, I have three first years I would like you to meet," she added.

"Three?" Emma said excitedly. "From here?"

"Three new first years coming right from this facility. They look like they'll be a sweet bunch. I thought it would be nice if they went to Hogwarts with a friend. You're going in your fourth year now?"

"Fourth year," Emma confirmed brightly.

"Merlin's beard, time flies. Do you want to meet them?"

"Is that even a question?"

Emma didn't even care that she met the three new first years in the reception room outside of Ward's office. She was so excited to meet them that nothing mattered. A wide smile broke on Emma's face when she noticed the red-headed girl amongst the three. She had been right after all. There was a tall boy with blonde hair and another girl with brown hair.

"Children, this is Emma Lupin. She'll be going into her fourth year this year," Mrs. Bryce said, winking at Emma. Mrs. Bryce looked at Emma thoughtfully. "Is it going to be Lupin-Black?"

"Just Lupin," Emma said with a laugh. "Emma Hope Lupin."

"You're _magical_?" blurted out the red-headed girl.

"I am," Emma nodded. "I'm it's nice to know that I was right about you. I think that's why you thought I seemed familiar when we met the other day." Emma looked over at Mrs. Bryce. "If I show them something, will you tell anyone at the Ministry?" Emma asked with a sheepish grin.

"Do you have a wand?" Mrs. Bryce questioned.

"No, it was broken," Emma said.

Mrs. Bryce gave Emma a sympathetic before turning around with a grin. "Then I know nothing. You have no wand. Who's to say it's not accidental?"

Emma grinned at the three children in front of her and decided to conjure up the blue flames. She would have to thank her father for that one and then ask him to show her something else to do as a fun party trick. The looks of pure awe on each small face in front of her made her simple bit of magic well worth it.

"That's amazing!" said the boy, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Can we learn to do that?" asked the brown-haired girl. "I want to learn now!"

"I can teach you when we get to school," Emma said. "When you have your wands, it'll be much easier. It's first year level magic."

"But you did it without a wand!" said the redhead in awe. "Can _we_ do things without wands?"

Emma looked over at Mrs. Bryce for guidance. "You can," Mrs. Bryce said slowly, "but I wouldn't recommend it until you've had training. Strictly speaking, you're not supposed to do magic outside of school, but Emma's situation is a little different."

"How did you do it without a wand, then? If you're not meant to do magic outside of school?" asked the boy, his head tilting slightly.

"Er, how much am I allowed to tell them, Mrs. Bryce?"

"They're Hogwarts students now. So long as you're careful around the other children, you can tell them anything you'd like."

Emma nodded and took a deep breath. "Well, I'm…God, this sounds weird to actually say out loud to someone other than my family, but I'm half-werewolf," she said, grimacing at the stunned looks on the three small faces in front of her.

"You're a _werewolf_?" asked the boy first. Emma had no doubt he would be a Gryffindor with how quickly he blurted out his question. Maybe Ravenclaw – he seemed inquisitive enough.

"What was your name again?" Emma asked. They had introduced themselves already, but Emma was too excited to have paid attention.

"It's…it's Brennan," he said shakily.

Emma smiled at Brennan. "I'm only half-werewolf. I'm a little different, but still human."

"Werewolves are scary!" said the brown-haired girl, throwing her hands up to her face to cover her eyes.

"Do I look scary to you?" Emma laughed, thoroughly amused. "And what was your name?"

The girl peered at Emma through her fingers and slowly lowered her hands. "Raewyn," she said, casting Emma a dubious look. "I suppose you don't look scary. You're rather short."

"Well, Raewyn, there are certainly…terrifying werewolves," Emma said carefully. She had been spending far too much time with a very dangerous werewolf, after all. "But we're not all scary. My father certainly isn't, and I can almost guarantee you wouldn't know that he was one. Did you know that I was when you met me?"

Raewyn considered it for a moment and then shook her head. Emma felt that Raewyn was going to be a Ravenclaw with her curious and calculating look. She could see the brown-haired girl trying to rationalize her thoughts, trying to determine if Emma's explanation made sense. "You don't seem like you'd be a werewolf at all."

"You might not have known at all if I didn't tell you," Emma said, looking over at Mrs. Bryce, grinning at her encouraging smile. This was the perfect teaching opportunity, and Emma was thrilled that Mrs. Bryce let her have it. This was one of the things Emma wanted to do with her life – remove the stigma of being a werewolf. She had three perfect candidates right in front of her to start making those changes.

"Do you…do you _turn_ into a wolf?" the red-haired girl asked, still staring at Emma in awe. "The full moon is this week!"

"And your name?"

"Finley. Finn for short," she answered happily.

Emma was sure that Finn would be a Hufflepuff. There was something about members of Hufflepuff that radiated energy that said, "Hufflepuff." It was an odd thing to experience, and she always forgot to ask her father about it. She wondered if he felt the same with other Gryffindors. The only person who didn't fit Hufflepuff's energy, in the beginning, was Caspian, but he lived in a household with two Slytherins and a Ravenclaw. He blossomed in their shared house during his second year.

"I don't transform into a wolf, no," Emma said. "Apparently, I smell like a werewolf, though. Although, I'm not sure what exactly that means or what a werewolf is meant to smell like…"

Finn stepped closer to Emma and gave a subtle sniff of the air. "Peppermint!" she declared happily, and Emma burst into laughter. She had picked up a peppermint body wash on her last shopping trip. She had decided to use it that morning during her shower to annoy Fenrir, and the fact Finn picked up on the scent made her laugh. That was good – it meant it was a strong scent, and Fenrir would hate it. She hoped it didn't aggravate Remus's nose too much.

"Perhaps, you're right," Emma laughed. "I'll have to ask what a werewolf actually smells like."

"You said you're different, though?" Brennan asked. "What does that mean?"

"Well, I don't transform, but I have some of the same magic as a werewolf. I also get pretty sick around the full moon, like right now."

"Can you take anything for it?"

Mrs. Bryce gently grasped Emma's shoulder. "I think you've got a handle on this one," she said gently. "Professor McGonagall will be bringing them to Diagon Alley next week to pick up their things. If you haven't been moved yet, would you like to go with?"

"A day with Professor McGonagall in Diagon Alley? I wouldn't miss it," Emma said with a grin.

"I'll be sure to let her know then," Mrs. Bryce said, squeezing Emma's shoulder and waving to the three children. "Good luck, Emma."

Emma sat with the three first years for nearly an hour talking about herself and about Hogwarts. The three had so many questions, and she loved every second of it, even when their questions were personal. She didn't like having to explain why she was in the children's home again, but the three were outraged on her behalf. They were very curious to know what Remus was like, amazed to hear that he didn't sound like a werewolf at all.

"Maybe someday you'll be able to meet him," Emma said. "Maybe at King's Cross." She wished that she could say they would meet him in class.

"That's enough, Nickels," Ward said, opening his door and looking at the three first years before his gaze fell on her. Emma stared back for a moment and then cleared her throat, turning to her new friends.

"We talked about a lot," Emma said. "Mr. Ward's right. We need to keep some of the magic, yeah?" With a quick look at her watch, Emma made her retreat. She needed to meet up with her father at the park, and she was beyond excited.

Remus could barely say a word as Emma told him about the three first years. Emma had given him a quick hug and immediately launched into her story, ignoring the cup of coffee he had picked up for her. He sat down on the nearby bench with a sigh and shook his head fondly.

"Daddy, they were _ssooo_ excited to learn about werewolves!" Emma said brightly. "Can you believe it? These are little first years, and they're going to come to Hogwarts and, well, they might start to believe their friends, but maybe not! Maybe these three are going to be the three to help me change things!"

Remus's expression was soft as he listened to Emma talk excitedly about her day. He wasn't sure what to think, but he had no doubt his daughter's heart was in the right place. It was often discussed that what she wanted to do would be difficult, but she was determined. He wouldn't dare ever try to take away that dream from her.

"Could you imagine? A world where people don't think terribly about werewolves? Or at least the stigma isn't there anymore?" Emma asked, finally plopping down on the bench next to Remus. She took the cup of coffee he had brought her and leaned her head on his shoulder with a content sigh. She felt _amazing_ – like she could take on the world! "This is what I want to do with my life. Exactly what I did today."

"Perhaps you should be a teacher then," Remus suggested. "Keeps you out of trouble and out of the Ministry, at least."

"You act like I'm even going to be able to get a job in our world," Emma said sadly. "If I did get a job in our world, I would _have_ to work at the Ministry. How else are laws going to get changed? Someone has to do it. Besides, I would never be as good a teacher as you."

"I think you would be a far better teacher than I," Remus said earnestly, tapping the end of Emma's nose with a finger.

"Absolutely not," Emma insisted. "I'm still gutted that you never signed the contract to come back. I would have loved having your class the entirety of the rest of my Hogwarts career. I never thought I would ever like Defense after having terrible professors."

An awkward and very unfamiliar silence fell, and Emma turned her head slowly to peer at her father, looking crestfallen. "You signed the contract," she said. "When?"

Remus sighed, pulling Emma's head closer to kiss her forehead. "The day before I resigned," he said. "I was going to show you before we settled in for the full moon…"

"You should have just stayed," Emma said. "You never should have left."

"If Severus didn't say anything, I might have stayed, but I was thoroughly convinced that I needed to leave. I wasn't sure that I wanted to risk having something like that happen again, but then the choice wasn't mine to make. It was better that I left. I could have killed all of you."

"But you didn't."

"I still hurt you."

"And we established that it was an accident and because of Papa. I wasn't afraid of you, and neither are the others."

"I know."

Emma's breath came out in short, frustrated bursts. "You should just come back! Fuck what the Ministry has to say!"

"Sweetheart –"

"No! You loved teaching! Dumbledore vouched for you once; he can vouch for you again!"

"Sweetheart, you know it's not that simple."

Emma immediately deflated, leaning against her father with a grumpy little huff that made him chuckle. "It should be that simple," Emma said sadly.

"I know," Remus said, rubbing Emma's arm. "Maybe someday."

Someday felt so impossible half the time, but Emma didn't dare tell her father that. She didn't need to be pessimistic after having such a good day.

"Daddy, have I told you that you're my best friend?" Emma suddenly asked after taking a long drink of her coffee.

Remus began to laugh, giving Emma's arm a squeeze. "You need a much younger best friend."

"But have I told you before?"

"I believe you told Moony that you're his best friend."

Emma gave Remus a small shove. "Don't be stupid," she grinned. "I mean it. Especially now. I can't imagine how hard all of this is for you."

"I'll be fine. It's you that I'm worried about. I had the time to work through my feelings. Your feelings are new all over again. What sort of father would I be if I didn't understand how much more difficult things are for you?"

"But –"

"Emma, _please_ – I know that you love me. I promise that you don't need to remind me every single time."

"But –"

"My God, Emma," Remus laughed, taking Emma's face between his hands and kissing her forehead. "I swear to you that I understand. My sweet girl, you have by far the purest heart I have ever come across. It amazes me every day that such a huge heart comes from someone your size. You are the way you are despite everything, and that's remarkable. Greyback might have…he might have been there your entire life, but he didn't shape your heart. That's entirely you. And do you want to know a secret?"

"What?"

"I love that there's still more to learn about you. Am I scared? Of course. I'm your father, and I am terrified for you. Every time we have to part, all I do is worry until I see you next because at least when you're by my side, I know I can keep you safe. It's when you're out of sight that everything seems to happen," Remus said gently. He pressed another kiss to Emma's forehead before letting her go. "Elara and I were thinking that it might be a good idea for you to start seeing Dr. Wheeler again."

Emma gave Remus a slight pout. "I really don't want to," she muttered, "but I probably should, shouldn't I? I'm sure she'll have a fun time trying to work through this one. All those long talks decided to become a reality and all that…"

"You will never be alone," Remus reminded her. "Remember that."

It appeared that Remus had finally gotten ahold of Dumbledore as her bag was returned to her room by the time she made her way back. Curious, she went through and found that everything was left in it, but Emma had her doubts that her food was still safe. She was tempted to dig in, certainly hungry enough for what she had, but resisted. She would stop somewhere for food on the way to the river. Emma opened her coin purse and frowned.

Maybe she wouldn't. It wasn't the first time she went without.

The moment her door was locked for the night, Emma slipped out of her room. It was funny how it had become routine. She was mildly annoyed that she had to make the trip out to the river by herself, but she at least had her bag in tow. It was nice to not have to try and shove everything into the waistband of her jeans.

She realized how bizarre it was that she even had "a spot" with Fenrir, just like she had "a bench" and "a café" with Remus. Fenrir barely looked up from where he sat as she approached, focused more on the cigarette held between his fingers.

Emma took a moment to look at Fenrir. This version of Fenrir fit more like the image she was starting to form in her mind of the werewolf. The closer they got to the full moon, the more he seemed to settle into a particular look, confident, and with an air of superiority.

His very thick facial hair had more than grown in the past week, but he kept it trimmed close. Emma had been surprised to hear that he actually took regular showers and was surprisingly clean. It just seemed that her first few interactions with him in recent years were at unfortunate moments. The cologne he wore was purely for her benefit, but it seemed as though it probably benefited him wherever he was that day.

Fenrir generally dressed casually, but he was more dressed up than she had ever seen. Instead of his usual boots, he wore a pair of wingtip shoes paired with dark trousers. She lifted a brow at his overcoat and his fully unbuttoned shirt, wondering why he didn't just take the coat off. It was still disturbing to her how muscular and how incredibly hairy he was. She considered asking what his outfit was about but found she didn't care too much to ask.

"Oi, Wolf Man, I need a favor," Emma said, digging into her bag and tossing Fenrir a granola bar. "I need your nose."

Fenrir rolled his eyes, catching the bar with one hand. "You got your bag back?"

"It was back in my room when I got back earlier today," Emma said. "Don't know if I should trust any of it."

"You have good instincts," Fenrir said, holding his cigarette between his teeth as he opened the wrapper. "You haven't touched anything?"

Emma shook her head, dropping the bag on the ground next to Fenrir and sitting down. "Wasn't sure if it was worth trusting. Do you mind checking the rest for me? I doubt there's anything salvageable. I smelled one, but I couldn't figure out what it was I was smelling."

"Most likely the Polyjuice they decided to stick in these."

"Polyjuice?" Emma asked, her nose wrinkling. "Really? Are they aware that I can't take it?"

"You'll find that wizards are stupid. Often you can use that to your advantage."

"Even though I'm only half?"

"You heal faster, do you not?" Fenrir asked, stubbing out his cigarette. "You share some of the same traits as a regular werewolf?"

"Yes?"

"Then you can take advantage of that information," Fenrir sniffed the air, and his face twisted, his lips pulling back slightly in a sneer. "Why do you smell like that?"

"Oh! It's peppermint!" Emma said brightly. "You like it?"

Fenrir shot Emma a sideways glance but mostly ignored her as he continued checking through Emma's food. He handed Emma a granola bar. "They missed one. Might as well have it now that it's opened."

"And you're _sure_ that it's fine?" Emma asked, giving the bar a dubious sniff. "What if your nose is broken because I smell nice. That and you smoke like a bloody chimney."

"Smoking does nothing for werewolves," Fenrir said matter of factly. "And you smell terrible, you brat."

"Good," Emma grinned, taking a bite of the granola bar in her hand and sighing at the amount of food that had been put aside. "Well, that's miserable. That's so much to throw out."

"Throw out? Why would you do that?"

"Because…they're bad?"

"It takes two seconds to reseal the packaging. Do you even realize how good these are to have? The things you can do with them? Need someone to forget something for a while? You give them one of these. The Polyjuice would eventually become ineffective, so that's not even an issue."

Emma picked up one of the bars, and a wide grin split on her face as she shoved it towards Fenrir. "Perfect – have one. Then maybe you'll forget about me and leave me alone."

Fenrir's nostrils flared with his annoyance. Emma was overly pleased with herself for pulling such a reaction from the werewolf. Anytime she bothered Fenrir, it was a good day for her, and she was having an incredibly good day.

"You had the potion today," Fenrir noted, his voice tight.

"I did," Emma said brightly.

"How?"

There was that commanding tone that Fenrir was using more frequently with her. It wasn't a tone of voice that Emma was fond of. "Someone from the Ministry came by today and ran into who made it for me," she said quietly, accepting the joint Fenrir passed to her. She fought had to suppress her eye roll as he swapped his cigarette for a joint.

"I hear that you know how to make the Wolfsbane Potion," Fenrir said.

Emma's eyes narrowed slightly as she lit Fenrir's joint. "I can. Why?"

"Just curious," he shrugged. "That's an advanced potion for someone as young as you to make."

"Well, when you have an important reason to learn something, you learn it."

Silence fell as they settled in. Emma slowly pulled off her boots to dip her feet into the water. It only hit her just then how quickly she readjusted to having such a new and very unconventional routine. This certainly wasn't Paris where she imagined she would have been if things were different. She definitely wouldn't be in her current situation.

Emma looked at the joint held between Fenrir's fingers curiously and then at hers. "Do you grow? Or do you just deal?" she asked

"What makes you think I do either?"

"Just a feeling," Emma shrugged.

Fenrir looked over at Emma, eyes narrowed. "All of the above."

"Ah, so that's what you do in your spare time," Emma said slowly. "So not only are you the most savage werewolf of all time, but you're also a weed dealer."

"It's more than weed."

"I expected to hear nothing less from you. What else do you do? I don't imagine you just sit around and laze all day."

"Depends on the day."

"That tells me nothing, Fenrir."

"Why do you have so many bloody questions?" Fenrir snapped.

"Don't need to get snippy with me, bloody hell. I'm just curious," Emma said. "I just want to know what it's like on the other side. Excuse me for wanting to understand your life."

Fenrir fixed Emma with a hard stare and let out an exasperated breath, running his tongue over his teeth as if he were preparing to bite her. Emma was thoroughly amused that she could inspire such a reaction in the usually rigid werewolf. "Like I said, it depends on the day," Fenrir said. "Right now, I'm more interested in making sure you're taken care of."

"Why?"

"You are really not grasping the concept of pack, are you?"

Emma blinked owlishly at Fenrir. "Because I don't understand _why me_ ," Emma said, pulling her feet out of the water and turning herself to look at Fenrir. "I'm not entirely convinced that this is a pack thing anymore. Especially since you decided that you're changing every bit of whatever supposed plan there was regarding me."

It seemed that the art of ignoring conversations was a trait that every werewolf seemed to have. Her father did it, Elara did it (though less frequently), and Fenrir was doing it to her now. It seemed to be the default reaction when Emma tried to have conversations they didn't want to have.

She blew out a buff of air in annoyance, wondering just how far she could push Fenrir that night without invoking his rage. Emma didn't think he would try to kill her, but the risk was always there. She cast a quick look at the sky – only a few more nights left until the full moon, and then it would be too dangerous to bother Fenrir. Taking advantage of her good mood, Emma decided to ask the question that had been sitting at the tip of her tongue for days. She wasn't sure that she wanted an actual answer, but she suspected that she already knew it.

"Fenrir, do you love me?" Emma decided to ask, watching Fenrir carefully.

Fenrir didn't immediately answer. The only indication that she had thrown him off was a very subtle shift in his face. It seemed that Fenrir wasn't someone who was surprised by much, but he would never have expected that question.

Emma wasn't sure what to think about his lack of response. She had figured that his need to keep her safe moved well past being considered pack. He never outwardly said that he loved her when growing up, but there was a fondness that he extended. The gentle version of Fenrir wasn't frequent, but it existed with her. It didn't fit the narrative of who Fenrir Greyback was meant to be. The only logical explanation she had for his actions was that he loved her, even if it was a very skewed version of what love should be.

"Love's a strong word," Fenrir said slowly.

"You're not denying it," Emma pointed out with a laugh. "Bet it's because it would ruin your image, isn't it?"

Fenrir snorted, shaking his head. "Do you love me?"

It was frustrating how quickly Fenrir could kill her good moods, and she pulled herself close together. She didn't want to answer that question when she was still trying to work through the memories that she had of him and the new information she knew. "That's not a fair question to ask me, and you know it," Emma said, her lips pressing into a thin line as she looked over at Fenrir.

"You asked me. It's only fair."

"It's not fair at all," Emma said sharply. "You've had your bloody memories this entire time, and I've been…" she trailed off, glaring at nothing in particular across the water. "I don't think you understand how confusing all of this is for me. I might have loved you at one point when I had no idea who you really were, but now… I mean, fuck, Fenrir, you tried to fucking bite me and _enjoyed_ scaring me. That's not…that's not loving someone. It wasn't even like you were good-natured about it at all."

"I wouldn't have killed you."

"And how was I supposed to know that? How have I ever been meant to know that?"

"That wasn't my fault."

"It doesn't matter," Emma said, enunciating each word slowly.

"You didn't answer the question."

"And neither did you."

Fenrir clearly had no intention of answering Emma's question. In one swift and unexpected motion, he pushed Emma hard into the river. Emma resurfaced, spluttering and trying to wipe the water out of her eyes.

"Fenrir! What the fuck is wrong with you?" Emma shouted. "What if I didn't know how to swim?"

"Oh, please," Fenrir said, laughing loudly. "You know damn well that I taught you how to swim years ago."

"Lucky me," Emma huffed, annoyed at being soaking wet and the fact she could remember him teaching her how to swim at all. She wasn't entirely sure that she could call it teaching her so much as shoving her in the water exactly as he just did and expecting her to figure it out. It was a wonder she wasn't traumatized by large bodies of water.

Emma watched in horror as Fenrir decided it was the perfect time to go for a swim. In the time it took for her to get back on land, Fenrir had his shoes, coat, and shirt off and belongings out of his trousers' pockets. He jumped in with far too much excitement for a man his age.

"You've got to be bloody kidding me," Emma said, looking over at Fenrir's laid out items. The moment she spotted his wand sitting next to his shoes, she was almost tempted to grab it and run. She could handle dueling him if she had a wand, even if it wasn't hers. Just as the thought crossed her mind, she found herself pulled back into the water.

Emma surfaced from under the water, and Fenrir's hand locked tightly around the back of her neck. Her wide eyes snapped to his in alarm. "Don't you fucking dare even think about trying to take my wand, Soleil," Fenrir snarled at her.

It took Emma some time to realize why Fenrir shifted through her names so often, but it was helpful information. It became her best bet in deciphering Fenrir's moods. When she was Emma, she was safe – it was neutral; Rabbit was safest, always said with amusement. If he called her Soleil, it was dangerous, commanding, and full of unsaid threats. She had inspired the usage of Soleil twice, asking Fenrir too many questions and pushing him too far.

A low growl rolled up Fenrir's throat, and his grip on the back of her neck tightened when Emma didn't immediately respond. "If you want me to rip into your throat, which I would _very_ much like to do, then by all means, take it and try to run. You won't get far. I will take great pleasure in dropping your corpse off at your father's as a gift for him to find in the morning."

Emma didn't expect that just the very idea of taking Fenrir's wand would inspire such a reaction from him. A shiver of genuine fear swept through her at the dark look in his eyes. He seemed keen to follow through on his threat if she dared to run.

Gulping, Emma nodded, quickly averting her gaze. Fenrir liked it when she acted every part of the obedient wolf. Even if she had special privileges, even if he planned to make her his, she was still beneath him.

"Good girl," Fenrir said, pulling Emma close to kiss the spot near her temple. He let go of her, and Emma quickly pulled herself back out of the water, holding herself close. Fenrir kept her pinned where she was with his sharp stare, and she shivered again. She didn't like it when Fenrir's mood shifted so quickly, and as Emma looked up at the moon sitting high in the night sky, she realized he would only get worse.

Emma wanted to just leave, but she was soaked. She was tempted to shove on her boots and just walk, but that would guarantee Fenrir would follow and not leave her alone all night. If she tried to leave, Emma worried that Fenrir would use _that phrase_ that practically bowled her over. He had used it once, unapologetically, to figure out what phrasing pulled that reaction from her but hadn't used it since. "Good girl" was fine, "little girl" by itself was fine, though Emma hated it, but "little girls like you" struck a chord that left Emma sick.

Slowly, Emma picked up her things and hunkered down by the closest tree. Fenrir's eyes followed her the entire way, making sure she wasn't going to try and leave. When he determined she would stay where she was, he finally looked away, content to swim under the night sky.

The breeze that blew by was cold, and Emma started to shiver as her body cooled down. She was uncomfortable, wet, and soggy with no warm sun to heat up her skin. Emma cast a longing glance at Fenrir's wand again, wanting to use it just to dry herself. She looked up in alarm to find Fenrir pulling himself out of the water, with a dark look that nearly sent her scrambling. Her gaze had lingered just a little too long.

"What did I fucking tell you?" Fenrir snarled at her, crouching down and planting himself firmly in front of her.

Emma gulped again, flinching as Fenrir moved his face closer to hers. For the second time that night, Fenrir terrified her. "I-I'm cold," she spluttered out, careful not to hold his gaze for too long. "I just…I wanted to get dry," Emma said quietly, her voice barely higher than a whisper. "I wasn't going to take it, and I wasn't going to leave, I swear."

Fenrir's growl was eerily soft as he stood, but Emma refused to see where he was going. She let out a sharp gasp when something heavy was draped over her shoulders, and she realized it was Fenrir's coat.

"Rest, Rabbit," he said gruffly. "I'll bring you back when I'm ready."

Nervously, Emma pulled Fenrir's coat around her tightly, pulling her entire body into the warmth. It didn't do much to help the sogginess she felt from her clothes, but at least she was warm. With a yawn, Emma leaned back against the tree to watch as Fenrir got back into the water. She had no desire to sleep, but the sudden stress she was put through made her body decide otherwise. Still shivering, both from the cold and fear, Emma closed her eyes. She was looking forward to the sun, where everything would be safe once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	11. Rumors

Emma had a very long day. She could feel herself getting sick the previous night, but it really took hold that morning. Her body was not reacting well to the stress it was going through without the Wolfsbane. She had no idea how her father dealt with the effects monthly without the potion, but then again, in a way, he was lucky. Moony at least had somewhere to go; Soleil was trapped until she received a bite.

She had her second ballet class earlier that day, and it turned out to be a feat that she handled it at all. The pull of the moon was more intense than ever, and her exhaustion made her movements sloppy and weak. When she found herself on the floor, slipping out of a pose that shouldn't have made her fall, Emma had stayed on the floor, laughing until she cried. It seemed almost fitting that she would fall and sprain her ankle after everything she was going through. The only good thing about her current situation was she wouldn't have to deal with any comments about her "bleeding." Elara had given Emma a very nice stockpile of potions with the promise of making sure Remus would remind her to take it. She had no intention of having a repeat incident that summer.

Elara had given Emma a hard time about not telling anyone she wasn't taking the Wolfsbane Potion. It was even harder for Emma to explain that it wasn't on purpose. Though Elara promised she wouldn't say a word to Remus, Emma didn't believe she would keep it a secret. Emma had a sneaking suspicion that her father already knew, but in typical Remus Lupin fashion, he didn't say a word.

Emma had an attitude with him when he checked her ankle as Elara talked to her dance instructor. She was supposed to have a second class that week, but Elara could already tell that Emma wasn't going to be able to handle it. Remus gave her a questioning look at her snarky comment but didn't comment on how snippy she was. Instead, he gave her a sympathetic smile. He pressed his forehead to hers, gently massaging her scalp and pulling her into a brief moment of peace. He always knew how to keep her grounded and bring her back to a calmer state of mind.

"Only a few more days," he said gently, kissing the tip of her nose, "and then it's all over."

"Until next month, and we get to do it all over again," Emma said dryly. "'M sorry."

Remus only gave her a small smile in response and kissed one cheek and then the other. Sometimes he said so much without having to say a word. He understood completely.

Knowing she wasn't going home and had to return to the children's home was getting easier in its own way. She allowed herself to cry a little bit over it the moment her door was locked for the night, and she was safe from most prying eyes.

For the most part, she was proud of herself for not crying much since being in Saint Nicholas's. There were so many moments where she wanted to cry, but she kept herself together as best as she could. Crying wasn't going to change her situation, but it certainly made her feel a lot better about things, and she needed a good cathartic cry.

She jumped when she heard something drop over by her dresser. Emma wiped her face off, sitting up and looking at the shoes sitting there. She looked up to meet Fenrir's gaze.

"Why do you have my old pointe shoes?" she asked, sniffling. "Better yet – why did you decide to bring them?"

Fenrir stared back at her for a moment, his thick brows knitting close together for a moment. "You left your things at the dance school the last time you were here, and I picked them up. Never got around to doing anything with them," he said, looking at the shoes and then over at Emma's feet, which she immediately pulled underneath herself. "I don't think your feet have grown much, if at all. You wouldn't have to get a new pair."

Somehow, it was not the strangest thing that Fenrir had said to her in the entire time she had known him. "I don't have any need for them," Emma said quietly.

Fenrir's eyebrows lifted slightly as he leaned into her room. "If you're going to lie to me, at least make an effort, Rabbit," he said, nodding towards her dance clothes that she had left in the corner of her room.

She would if she felt it was worth the effort of trying to make a believable lie. Emma stared at the shoes for a moment, part of her tempted to see if they fit. She didn't grow much at all, and she didn't think her feet grew in the past few years. There was a possibility the shoes still fit. Emma sighed at the realization that she had only worn them twice – once when she was fitted, and once more to show Fenrir. What a strange life she had once lived…

Emma got up from her bed to turn off her light, ignoring Fenrir as best as she could. Before she could make it to the light switch, Fenrir was right in front of her, and she crossed her arms. It was ridiculous how fast he actually moved for his size, and she frowned at the shoes held in his hands.

"Just try them on," he said, jerking his head towards her bed.

Emma sat back down on her bed with a heavy sigh, annoyed that Fenrir insisted that she try the shoes on. It wasn't like it mattered when she had to work back up to the level she was. It would be a very long time before she was good enough, especially with going back to school in nearly a month.

She took the shoes from Fenrir's hands slowly, hesitating for a moment before running through the motions. Emma had been so proud of earning her pointe shoes, something that she worked so hard for. Every time she was reminded that she did it to prove to Fenrir she was good at something, she broke a little. Remus would have always been so incredibly proud of her, and it made her feel terrible that she had been nasty to him earlier that day. He knew nothing about ballet, but he was so proud and beyond happy to be a part of something that had been important to her growing up.

Emma wanted nothing more than for the shoes to not fit, but they seemed to fit perfectly. It was like a twisted little Cinderella moment for her, but Fenrir was a monster, not a prince. It would have made the entire situation much different if it was George presenting her with the shoes. He would have been even more confused than her father, but no less enthusiastic, she was sure.

"You know that you have to stand in them before you can decide if they fit or not," Fenrir said, his voice surprisingly soft. It was much different than the night before, and Emma let out another sigh because he had a point.

She stood up and looked up at Fenrir as he held his hands out for her to take. The entire thing felt incredibly wrong, something she should be doing with her father and not Fenrir. As the thought crossed her mind, another idea settled itself in place. Whatever Fenrir felt towards her couldn't be just a pack thing like he tried to make it out. But he couldn't have grown to see her as _his_ daughter when she was growing up, could he? That would make things so much more complicated.

Emma couldn't allow herself to think about it, especially after how he treated her the night before. It would be something else that didn't fit the narrative she had with Fenrir and left a bitter taste in her mouth. The very idea was as impossible as it could get, but when Emma hesitated to do anything, and he gently took her hands, it left her wondering. The gesture was delicate in the same way that Remus or Sirius handled her, with practiced ease that she felt could only be reserved for beloved children.

"Try," Fenrir said simply. "You won't know unless you try."

She detested Fenrir encouraging her to try; she hated how gentle he was suddenly being. It drove home the point of how _wrong_ the entire situation was. Still, she was as far as she was and moved her hands to his arms to have a more solid base. Tucked away in the recesses of her memories, she remembered they had done this before. Taking a deep breath, Emma lifted herself up and immediately rolled her ankle again. It was stupid of her to bother trying, and she pushed herself back from Fenrir to sit back down on the bed.

"This was fucking stupid," Emma said, ripping the shoes off of her feet and massaging her ankle. At least she had rolled the same ankle and not the other.

Fenrir smacked her hand away to check her ankle himself. "I noticed you were favoring this foot earlier. What did you do?"

"I fell," Emma shrugged.

"You fell?"

"Yes."

"Well, that was fucking stupid," Fenrir said with a slight growl.

"I had no idea," Emma said dryly. She let out a yelp as Fenrir manipulated her ankle the same way Remus had earlier. "You absolute bastard."

Fenrir snorted, a slight smile crossing his face. "Shouldn't have fallen. You never used to fall before."

"How would you know? It wasn't like you ever watched me practice or went to my recitals," Emma said sharply. Fenrir only gave a grunt in response, letting go of Emma's ankle, his lips pressing into a thin line as he crossed his arms. Even Fenrir knew he couldn't deny that claim.

"Come on, let's go out. I'll carry you," Fenrir said, his expression shifting into the one that told her he wouldn't take no for an answer. Two could play that game.

"No," Emma said, tossing the shoes onto the floor and sliding herself up the bed to slip underneath the cover. "I'm going to bed."

Fenrir pulled himself up to his full height, eyes narrowing slightly. "No, you're not," he said slowly. "You're coming out with me."

"No, I am not," Emma said, nodding her head towards her dresser. "You can leave and take your coat. I don't need it."

"It's raining. I'm sure you've figured out it's been charmed to keep you dry."

"Yes, but I'm not going out, so you can take your coat and leave me alone," Emma huffed, laying down and half hiding her face in her pillow.

"Rabbit, don't be ridiculous. Come out."

"No."

"I will drag you out of that bed like you're one of the pups if you don't get up. You're small enough to be one."

"What? No threatening to rip my throat out tonight?"

"Keep it up, and I just might," Fenrir growled.

Emma shot Fenrir a glare and burrowed further into the mattress, eyebrows raised in a challenge. "Why are you so insistent that I come out?" Emma asked.

Fenrir was looking less and less amused by her. "I want to talk to you," he said.

"Then talk," Emma said, making a vague gesture to the room. "Better yet – you can go out in the rain, and I'll stay right here and act as if I'm paying any attention to what you're saying."

"You are acting like such a brat."

"Hmm, yes, well, I think considering our current track record, my responses are appropriate," Emma muttered. She was fully prepared to continue challenging Fenrir until she most definitely wasn't. All it took was the energy change in the room, the slight darkening of his eyes, and a single step forward for her to jump back out of bed.

Being carried piggyback by Fenrir Greyback was notably not amongst her summer's bingo board. If everything strange that had happened had been on that board, there was a chance she would have cleared the entire board. Emma wondered if her prize would have been a good one for winning the game.

The rain had let up half-way to the river and had become a fine mist. She had no doubt that she was going to have a full-blown cold the next morning with the constant shift in temperature her body was going through. Emma half expected Fenrir to just drop her on the ground when they arrived at the riverbank, but he let her down off his back slowly. She pulled her bag off of her shoulder and dropped it next to her as she sat down, eying Fenrir warily. She wasn't sure if he planned on repeating the previous night's events. Emma left her boots on just in case; hopefully, he wouldn't throw her back into the river again if she had shoes on.

Fenrir sat next to her, his arm nearly touching hers. He reached into his pocket to pull out his box of cigarettes. Emma wondered just how often he smoked and almost let out a sigh of relief when he didn't ask her to light it for him. Instead, he pulled a lighter out of the box, and Emma was left slightly stunned by just how non-magical the situation felt.

It was a rare occurrence, but sometimes Fenrir would do things that would make her forget he was a werewolf. For brief moments, she could fall back into her strange fantasy of not living in the magical world. She still sometimes wished that particular fantasy was a reality – where werewolves and magic were only stories. What a life that would be; the Muggles had things so easy, and they had no idea.

"How are you feeling?" Fenrir suddenly asked, breaking Emma out of her thoughts.

Emma looked at Fenrir in confusion. "Why do you care?"

"You were crying earlier, so clearly something is wrong."

 _Buggering fuck_.

There were at least eight different ways Emma could answer that question, and each answer came down to Fenrir in one way or another. She was frustrated with her current situation, and she was tired of having to sneak around. Trying to toe the line at the children's home was miserable, and it was only because the staff just didn't care to deal with her that she got away with so much. She wanted to be home sleeping in her bed, or most likely her father's bed with the full moon so close. Emma craved routine, and though she had started to slip into one, it was born purely out of the need to cope.

Her mind was pushed and pulled in so many directions that she had completely lost count. She was still reeling from the revelation that not only was there nothing wrong with Jude, but there had also been nothing wrong with her mother. It had left her with more questions than she had no answers for, but she couldn't convince herself to ask. If she wasn't so concerned about making it through the summer, she would focus on that situation more, but she couldn't. She hated that she had any positive feelings towards Fenrir, though her brain was slowly bridging that gap of the "old Fenrir" and the "new Fenrir." The day she could finally come to terms with who Fenrir really was couldn't come soon enough.

She was aggravated that Peter escaped, that Sirius had to be on the run still. She was beyond pissed that her wand, something that had become so treasured, had been broken by the rat. Her heart was broken that the person she thought was her best friend really wasn't, or at least didn't appear to be. Persephone had insisted that she truly loved Emma, but she was still helping Fenrir and her father. Some days Emma could reconcile with herself and admit that she would do the same thing if she were in her shoes, but it still hurt. The fact that she had been friends with Persephone since birth and Persephone was working to hurt her? It was heartbreaking.

Emma wanted to tell _someone_ that she was terrified of going back to Hogwarts, terrified of what would happen with the Ministry. She wasn't sure that she had friends anymore at school other than the few who wrote to her, though she doubted they would be her friend anymore. It wasn't like she had made an effort to talk to someone other than Harry, but she hadn't heard back from him. Maybe he didn't like her either….

She worried that the Ministry would find some reason, _any reason_ , to execute her father for his transgressions. After all, that was the fate that met most werewolves met...unless they were Fenrir Greyback. Though Emma knew that Remus wouldn't go down without a fight when it came to her, would he do the same for himself if he had to?

He wasn't at all like Fenrir in that respect, though he had been more than willing to murder Peter in the Shrieking Shack with Sirius. The cold expression on both of their faces still stuck out in her mind and sent a shiver down her spine. She understood _why_ they would want to, Peter had destroyed so much for more than half of the group present, but it was terrifying.

"I don't know," Emma finally said. How was she supposed to answer that question when she honestly didn't know? She was always on edge, fearing the worst and hoping for the best.

"You don't know?"

"No."

"Then what do you know?"

That question was much easier for her to answer. "I know I don't want to be here."

"Why?"

The answer to that question was even easier. "Because I fucking hate you."

A near-satisfied smile pulled at Fenrir's lips as he took a drag of his cigarette. "I think that's the first sincere thing you've ever said to me. I was beginning to think you were going to be a problem, but you apparently do know how to tell the truth."

"Oh, do you want the truth about what I think about you? Because I have plenty more to say."

"By all means," Fenrir shrugged. "I confess that I'm curious to know."

"Oh, are you?" Emma said, turning her entire body to glare at Fenrir's profile. "This is perfect because I've had a ton of time to think about this over the past week and a half. I think you are an absolutely foul and despicable person. You're so bloody controlling and demanding for no reason other than you can be. You have spent seemingly your entire life trying to create this disturbing image for yourself to strike fear into people. I bet you absolutely adore that when parents tell their children about you, it's because _you_ are the monster under their bed.

"You thrive on the power you have over others – it was quite evident last night. You say you care for your pack, but I'm not sure that you really do unless it benefits you somehow. I don't think that you even can love someone. You're too bloody concerned with yourself and the things that you want. You take, and you take, and really, what does it matter to you? You've got, I don't bloody know – how many people are in your pack? – but you've got all of these people do to the things you want for you. You're no better than what Voldemort was, and it's no bloody wonder you two worked together. You two should have been a couple when he was around."

"Well, well, Rabbit's claws have come out to play," Fenrir said, peering up at the moon. "I was starting to think that they wouldn't. You have an incredible amount of restraint, even without taking Wolfsbane."

"It's not easy," Emma muttered.

"Feel better?"

Emma turned herself back towards the water, crossing her arms. She wasn't going to dignify Fenrir's question with a response. She didn't want to prove him right.

"That's what I thought," Fenrir said, taking a slow drag of his cigarette. "You were wrong about at least half of what you said."

"At least half? I think I've got you pretty spot-on, really."

"Bits and pieces, sure. I enjoy the power that I have, but not for the reason you think. I'm demanding because I know what others are worth; I want the best. There's a reason why I do the things I do, but I bet you would never even consider that as a possibility; you would never believe that there's an ounce of good to what I do," Fenrir said, fixing Emma with his unwavering stare. Emma turned her face away – there was no possible way there could be an ounce of good to what Fenrir did. "The things you know about me have been filtered through your father, to paint a narrative that he wants you to believe. For years, you've had no recollection of who I am, and he has painted a picture for you that's not entirely true."

Fenrir gripped Emma's chin lightly, turning her face back towards him. "I want you to think very carefully about this before answering - can you still believe everything he says when you've known me nearly your entire life? Can you honestly say that everything he's told you is the truth?"

Emma hated Fenrir more than anything, and she felt her entire body heat up as she held his gaze. She wanted to say yes more than anything, but instead, she let out a very bitter, "No."

It wasn't a lie, not exactly. She knew Remus filtered his stories, but only to keep out the worst of the details, instead allowing her to fill in the blanks. Elara mostly told Emma the stories but deferred to Remus on certain details. They gave her enough information to understand how things had been for them at the height of the war. Boris had given her an unfiltered view into life with the pack and with Fenrir in the current. Emma having her old memories, as hard as they were to work through, provided additional insight. Every piece of information she knew about Fenrir came down to one God awful sliver of advice – do what it takes to survive.

It was the right answer as Fenrir's growl came out as a purr, and he let go of her. "We share the same cause, you know," Fenrir said, stubbing out his cigarette and flicking it somewhere into the night.

"We do not share the same cause," Emma spat. "I'm not going around attacking children. I'm not attacking others because they disagree with me. I certainly don't pretend to act like I'm not a witch and act like an animal all the time."

"Is that really what you think I do?"

"Because it bloody is!"

"And here I thought you knew me…"

"I do! It's you who doesn't know me!"

Fenrir seemed to take that as a challenge. "I don't?" he asked, humming thoughtfully. "Let's see, I know that you've a proven aptitude for Herbology and for Potions. You're miserable at Astronomy, which makes absolutely no sense to me when you have a werewolf for a father. You never pay attention in History when you should because it's important – history repeats itself, you know. You're all right with Transfiguration, but you do a much better job at Charms. You decided that you like Quidditch all of a sudden - so much so that you decided to play for your team. Your favorite color changes nearly every week, you prefer most things Muggle, and you spend more time with Slytherins than your own house. Does that sound right?"

Emma felt herself grow paler and paler, the more Fenrir said. How much did Persephone actually tell him? "Well, clearly someone has had no issue in telling you a lot about me," Emma said quietly.

"Oh, I know plenty more. Would you like me to continue?"

"No."

Fenrir hummed again, reaching into his pocket to pull out another cigarette. "Our causes are the same. You want to make the lives of werewolves better. So do I. We're stronger than wizards, better in every possible way –"

"See, that's where you completely lose me, Fenrir."

"Shut up and listen to me," Fenrir said sharply. "We're better, stronger, faster, but the wizarding community has decided our powers are a problem. Our resources are limited. I do what I do to ensure that my pack has a better life. People fearing me and fearing the pack is what keeps us safe. Wizards hate us –"

"Because you attack them –"

"I said shut the fuck up and listen. You are not listening to me," Fenrir growled. Emma fell silent and gestured for Fenrir to continue. "Such a fucking brat," he muttered before continuing, "Wizards hate us because they know what we're capable of. Our magic is old magic, something most wizards wish they could harness. We don't _need_ wands because our magic isn't built around using wands."

"Yet you have a wand and nearly attacked me for even looking at it," Emma pointed out, flinching slightly as Fenrir tensed up in aggravation, his hands balling into fists.

"Do you not understand how to fucking follow directions? I said shut up."

Emma shrugged. "I follow them when I feel it's necessary," Emma said, daring to lay back on the grass. The grass was wet, but it was cold and felt pleasant on her overheated body. "Explain the wand thing to me, then."

"A werewolf with a wand is far more dangerous," Fenrir said simply. "Sometimes, all it takes to get someone to bend to your will is a wand."

"So you think I'm dangerous?" Emma asked carefully.

"No," Fenrir said, "but I don't have your loyalty yet. From what I've heard, you know what you're doing with a wand. I can handle you with no issue, but I would rather avoid the headache. Without your loyalty, I don't trust you."

"Real rich coming from you," Emma laughed. "Asking me for blind loyalty when you're a bloody monster. I think I'm the one who shouldn't be trusting you."

Fenrir gave Emma a once over. "Has your father told you nothing about what you are?"

"He's told me enough…"

"He has only told you what he wants you to know, and you only experience half of it because you're so averse to just accepting what you are."

"I don't want to be a werewolf."

"You already are."

"I'm only half. It's different, and you know it," Emma said quietly. "I don't want to be like you."

"Like what? Powerful?"

"Evil."

"Is that really what you think of me?"

"Is that not what you are? Did we not establish this earlier that I fucking hate you?"

"I don't believe that you do."

Emma chose to ignore Fenrir's comment. She was determined to say it enough until she felt it was undeniably true. "Right, well, that still doesn't explain attacking children. What does a child have to do with anything adult wizards do?"

"Everything," Fenrir said, laying down next to Emma.

"My God, you really need to bloody explain yourself. What is everything?"

"I don't attack children; I give them a gift."

"By turning them into werewolves? By forcing them into a life that they don't want?"

Fenrir turned on his side, propping himself up on his elbow to look at Emma. "You know, I take children whose situations are not too dissimilar to yours."

"What does that even mean?"

"Abused. Neglected. Disowned… Sometimes I even kill their parents, but that's a generosity they don't deserve."

"I'm not abused or neglected," Emma scoffed. "Neither was my father."

"But you were. And Lyall pissed me off – he needed to learn a lesson. Would've gotten your mother as well if I had the chance. Then Lyall ran like the coward that he is."

"If you knew I was being abused, why didn't you take me then? Why bother waiting?" Emma sat up and shot Fenrir a glare. "And then why didn't you bother killing Jude if that's the case? At least then maybe I would find a reason to like you better."

"Which means you like me."

Emma hesitated for a moment. "It means I tolerate you," she said slowly.

Fenrir grunted in response, a smug smile on his face.

"You know, you're like a bloody caveman sometimes," Emma said. "Why use words when you can just make noises at everything?"

"Words are noises."

"Astute observation, Sherlock Holmes. I had no clue that words were noises. Thank you for that wonderful lesson. Wanker."

"Not the first time I've been called that."

"Let me guess, not many live after calling you that."

Fenrir grunted again in response, and Emma ran her hands down her face in frustration. "How do people have conversations with you?"

"They don't. You have an incredibly filthy mouth, and you're a brat. If you were with me in the pack right now, you can bet that mouth of yours would be shut up by now."

"It's fine for me. I haven't had any complaints about myself so far."

Emma decided that Fenrir was in a much better mood that night. He was still grumpy but seemed less likely to lash out at her. She let the silence settle for a while before deciding to ask him questions again.

"How old are you anyway?" Emma asked.

"You're nearly fifteen," Fenrir responded, sitting back up.

"Are you so old that you can't understand how to answer a simple question? I'm well aware of how old I am, thanks. That's not what I asked - how old are _you_?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'm just trying to figure out who you are," Emma said quietly. "I've seen you nearly every day, and I apparently don't know much about you."

Fenrir was silent for a moment. "Forty-eight."

Emma turned her head to look at Fenrir, studying him closely. "I thought you were…I dunno how old I thought you were." Emma wrinkled her nose as she took a good look at Fenrir, trying to understand how he didn't look that old at all. Her father looked closer to forty-eight than Fenrir did, and it didn't make sense. Was it because Remus resisted Moony so much that it affected him much more than he let on? Or was it due to everything he was doing before Emma came back into his life?

"I can't decide if it's better or worse, knowing how old you actually are," she admitted.

"And why is that?"

"Because you're like…you're like a very creepy grandfather."

"I'm not that old."

"You _are_ that old," Emma said, humming quietly to herself as she tried to think of what question to ask next. "How old were you when you were turned?"

"Why are you asking me so many fucking questions tonight?"

"For the same reason I've asked every other question – I'm curious. Do you want my loyalty or not? Aren't you the one who said they did their research before getting into anything?"

Fenrir let out a soft growl. "You learn fast."

"I'm smart."

"Questionable," Fenrir said. "I was eighteen."

"And my father was your first successful turn? Is that correct?" Fenrir gave a slight nod in response, and Emma frowned slightly. "You haven't been a werewolf that much longer than my father, then."

"That's correct," Fenrir said, sitting up again.

Emma pursed her lips slightly. This was the most she had been able to get Fenrir to talk, and she was wondering just how much information she could get out of him. In her aggravation, she had completely forgotten _he_ was the one who wanted to talk. "What did you want to talk to me about," Emma asked.

"Oh, am I allowed to talk? Thought you decided tonight was all about you." Fenrir asked sarcastically. Emma huffed, crossing her arms and flopping back onto the ground again. "You know I just had my coat cleaned."

"Don't care," Emma said. "Talk, Wolf Man."

Fenrir took a deep, steadying breath. "I'm not going to be around as much the next few days," he said slowly.

That was surprising to hear. "Oh, abandoning me all over again?" Emma asked.

"I'm going to be away _because_ of you, brat," Fenrir said, shooting Emma a glare.

"Because of me?" Fenrir nodded slowly, and Emma stared at him expectantly.

"Certain…individuals…are being difficult," Fenrir said after a while, "which means I have to do things my way. Almost everything is ready."

It took Emma a moment to understand what Fenrir was referring to, and her stomach dropped. "What if I don't want the rest of my memories?" Emma asked, her voice trembling far more than she wanted it to.

"Well, that's too damn bad," Fenrir replied. "You're going to want them."

"But why?"

"I don't think you understand just how much damage Jude can actually do, how much he's already done."

"Because you haven't told me anything else," Emma said quietly.

"It would be easier if everything was in that brain of yours," Fenrir said pointedly.

"Doesn't mean that I don't want to try and understand now."

Fenrir sighed, rubbing his jaw before giving a slight shrug. "I'm not going to repeat myself."

"I won't want you to."

"Then what do you want to know?"

Emma thought about it for a moment. "I want to know more about Jude," she said after thinking about it for a few minutes. "I want to understand that situation."

"You waste no time, do you?"

"Well, it doesn't appear as though you're particularly fond of him either," Emma said. "I can't imagine that a lot of people make you feel that way, so I'm just wondering why."

"You call me a monster, but Jude's far worse," Fenrir said with a dark chuckle. "You're aware that Jude gave you to me, yes?"

"Unfortunately," Emma muttered.

"But do you know why?"

"Not really," Emma said. "A few years ago, I think I dreamed of when that…deal or whatever took place. Something to do with working with Voldemort."

"I'm surprised that wasn't one of the memories pulled from you," Fenrir said.

"So that's true?"

"It is, but it's not the full story."

"Then what is the full story?"

Fenrir considered his answer for a moment. "One of the important things to know right is that Jude is a very jealous bastard. He wanted a son. You, very clearly, are not a son at all."

"So, this all started because I'm a girl?"

"To a degree, yes, which is incredibly stupid on his part, especially with how smart you actually are. But you're focusing on the wrong part - Jude is jealous."

"Jealous of what? I was never meant to be his in the first place."

"Ah, but that's where it gets interesting. You weren't a son, and you weren't an heir to the Nickels name. You recall how I said he's Muggle-born?"

"Yes," Emma said, slowly sitting up to pull her knees up to her chest.

"By having a son, he could have played into the Pure-blood charade. He's not from here, you know."

"I didn't know that."

"Hmm, suspect you wouldn't with his bullshit. It didn't matter to him that you weren't meant to be his – he didn't want you to exist at all. Consider it a failed attempt at an heir, if you will. Regardless of who you went to, by you existing at all, it was proof that he didn't have an heir. Not by your mother, at least. I can say that Jude did love her. For a time…"

"It didn't seem like it."

"She wanted to leave him when she realized what he was trying to do. But by then, it was too late. Jude had already promised you to me, and she did everything in her power to keep you away from me. Then Jude fucked up. He let you loose around the pack, and Monty got to you – I wasn't letting you get away that easy after that. There's more to it, but those details don't matter just yet – they'll come in time."

"But you didn't kill Jude."

"No, because I wanted him to suffer."

"Doesn't sound like he's suffered too much."

"Because he hasn't. Not yet. He's played the long game, but he's getting tired of it. Your dog escaping from Azkaban had given him the incentive to finally leave, but he couldn't. Not when you were still going to the hospital for different reasons."

"People will notice that he's missing."

"I can't stand the bastard, but Jude's talented in many ways. No one will even realize he's gone now. You've no need to go to the hospital; no one would bother checking."

"How will no one realize that he's gone?"

"Because he's talented in memory charms like that one idiot was that got himself locked in the ward – they were friends. Has anyone ever bothered checking you to see if your mind's been altered?"

That just made Emma have a million more questions. Jude was friends with Lockhart, too? She supposed that made sense – they were both Ravenclaws. "It's…it's come up, but it was decided there was no point when I was remembering things."

"You'll want to get that checked out. I wouldn't have put it past him to have not done something. Anything with the mind is easier with children. Your minds are still pliant and easily swayed," Fenrir said.

"Can we go back to that for a moment? Back to when Jude decided to give me to you? If he didn't want me around, what was he hoping to accomplish by giving me to you?"

"He was hoping that I would wind up killing you."

"But he said something about me being of age –"

"That was just a courtesy I extended to you," Fenrir scoffed. "Do you really think I gave a shit about that? Jude only said it to try and save his ass if he got caught. If I was smarter, I would have just taken you years ago."

Emma frowned as she tried to let that settle in amongst the rest of her thoughts. "So then why didn't you? Why did you decide leaving me was the best option?"

"Because I most likely would have killed you," Fenrir said simply. "You were too small. When I finally decided that it would be time to take you, you were much smaller than I expected you to be. Add that to the fact you were not taken care of properly. You were quiet and refused to talk. It wasn't normal." Fenrir took a look at Emma. "You're still too small."

"Well, can't change that. Missed out on those genes," Emma said quietly.

"Clearly," Fenrir snorted. "Thought you having your father's blood would have at least give you some of his height. Can't complain too much; he gave you something much better."

"My eventual demise," Emma said dryly.

"Oh, shut up," Fenrir said, rolling his eyes. "You're so fucking overdramatic; I don't understand how your father deals with you. He just made things so much easier for you – you're not going to die from being turned. Take advantage of the gift he's given you."

Emma fell silent, not sure of where the conversation could go. "Why are you telling me any of this?" Emma asked after a while. "I don't understand what exactly made you decide that you're changing things."

"You asked me yesterday if I love you," Fenrir said quietly.

"Yes, but what does that have to do with any of this?"

"Everything."

Emma swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. "You see me as yours," Emma said carefully. "Your…your child?"

"Funny how that happened when you were growing up," Fenrir said, going into his pocket to pull out his third cigarette of the night with a smirk. "Now that you're older, well, can't say that I see you the same way..."

Fenrir didn't have to finish his sentence for her to understand. It was the conclusion that Emma had come up with, but she didn't like knowing that she was right. She opened her mouth to say something but found her mouth was dry. She studied Fenrir's profile for a moment before looking down at her feet. Emma had hoped that by having the information she did, she would understand what to do next. Instead, she was left with uncertainty, and she didn't think Remus would know what to do either.

"There are rumors about the Dark Lord's return. They've grown stronger the past month or so," Fenrir stated. "And Jude never received his mark. Killing you would have given it to him…Your mother wouldn't be enough. If the rumors are true, then you're Jude's easiest target."

Emma slowly lifted her gaze to meet Fenrir's, beginning to understand what he was telling her. If Jude left St. Mungo's because he believed the rumors, then it would make sense he would go for her first. "You're trying to keep me safe," Emma replied, her brow furrowing in confusion. "But you're doing this without me saying that I'll be loyal to you. Why?"

"Your loyalty means you'll be kept safe – the pack will be willing to serve. Your loyalty doesn't change that you're mine, and I take care of what's mine," Fenrir said with a one-shouldered shrug. "I'm not doing this for nothing, but you already know that. One day you'll serve at my side where you belong. It comes down to whether or not you're going to come willingly." Fenrir leaned towards Emma, stroking his fingers along her jaw. "You belong to me, Rabbit," he purred around the cigarette held between his teeth. He lifted his hand to brush his knuckles against the scar on Emma's cheek. "And everyone is going to know it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	12. The Bond of Friendship

Remus could see that Emma was closed off more than usual. He hoped that by bringing Emma home again, she would be more comfortable, but so far, it seemed to do the opposite. It was challenging bringing Emma home as she would grow overly anxious out of the fear of getting caught, but her desire to be home always won out. Each unauthorized trip home usually involved some form of a minor panic attack on Emma's part, but she insisted every time she was okay. Remus always made sure to subtly pull Emma through her attacks, careful to do it in a way she wasn't embarrassed by it. Still, he worried that he was doing the wrong thing for her.

He sat patiently at the kitchen table, just watching Emma. She stood silently, leaning in the open back doorway, staring out towards the woods, teacup in hand. Aurora, who had come back from a recent hunt, sat on the nearby windowsill, letting Emma absentmindedly stroke her feathers. He didn't believe she did anything more than holding the cup in her hand, just wanting something to hold onto. Emma was exhausted and had too much anxious energy, and he had no idea how to help. Remus tried to get her to talk about what was wrong, but she only gave him an unconvincing, "I'm fine," with a sad smile. He wasn't going to push her – it did more harm than good.

Elara was quick to tell him that Emma was obviously not taking the Wolfsbane Potion, but they couldn't figure out a solution. Snape made the potion and brought it each day as he was instructed to do. Through Ministry regulations, Emma wasn't allowed to be given the potion directly from Snape and had to be passed through Ward. According to Ward, she received it every day. Emma's word wouldn't count for much, nor would many care in the present state of things. Snape wouldn't make the potion three times just so Emma could have it.

With the crackdowns on anti-werewolf legislation, it was difficult for Elara to pull together enough ingredients to make the potion for herself. They considered going through a Potioneer to get the Wolfsbane Potion, but the potion and the ingredient's prices had tripled. Elara suggested missing her own doses to give to Emma, but they both knew Emma would resent the idea, and it would stress her out more. Remus was required to be on the potion for a set amount of time so that the committee on Emma's case would begin to consider releasing Emma back into his care. Their options were limited and as strong as Emma was, the pull of the full moon was stronger and affected her that much harder.

Remus sighed, standing up from the kitchen table to join Emma. He placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze, and she straightened up slowly. She turned her head slightly to look up at him over her shoulder, that sad smile still in place. Emma stayed there for a moment before bending down to place her mug on the floor and then straightening up to hug him.

Over time, he had come to associate specific hugs with certain moods. Emma had hugs that very clearly meant, "I love you," and hugs that were for when she was tired or sad. There were hugs for when she was happy or excited, and even hugs for when she was angry and just needed to be anchored. Rarely did she ever need a hug for reassurance, and it put Remus on edge to get that exact hug, disconcerted that she even needed it.

"Daddy, do you wish I was a boy?" Emma suddenly asked, burying her face in his chest and her hands clinging tightly to the back of his jumper.

The question was so unexpected that it nearly knocked Remus over. He never would have expected Emma to ask such a thing, especially when he had told her that he wanted a girl and that she was perfect. The only explanation he could logically come up with was that her question came from something Fenrir said, but even that didn't make sense.

"Sweetheart, I have never once wished that you were a boy," Remus said gently. "You know that I always wanted a daughter."

"I-I know, but if you had a choice, and you could have a boy instead, would that make you happier?"

Remus frowned slightly, holding Emma tighter. "No, of course not," he said. "You are all I ever dreamed of. Where is this coming from?"

Emma only shook her head, trying to get herself impossibly closer, and Remus sighed.

"Nothing in this world would ever make me want to change a thing about you. I adore every little thing about you, even when you decide to shove your cold little toes up my shirt to try and get them warm," Remus added with a smile, earning a quiet giggle from Emma. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Remus was about to say something else when he heard a faint popping noise coming from the kitchen table. He swore under his breath, and Emma looked up at him in alarm before following his gaze to find a Phoenix feather sitting on the table. It was a warning.

"No," she said quietly, looking between Remus and the feather.

"There wasn't supposed to be a check today," Remus said, running a hand through his hair. "I am so sorry."

Emma nodded, separating herself from Remus and grabbing her things as Remus tried to quickly clean up any other evidence that she was there. She sniffled pathetically, not wanting to leave.

"Hold on," Remus said, rushing off to his room and returning with something silvery in his hand and what looked like letters under his arm. "I know – it's another bracelet, but I thought that you would like this – I thought it was funny," he added at Emma's confused look. He grabbed onto Emma's left hand so that he could fasten the bracelet around her wrist. It was much different from her other bracelet and made with a soft and thin black leather strap with silver clasps. A small smile crossed her face when she noticed a dangling charm of a paw print hanging from it. Her head tilted slightly when she saw a similar band on his wrist.

"Anytime you need a reminder that I love you, just touch the charm," Remus said, gently touching the paw print on his bracelet. He smiled at Emma's face lit up.

"It feels warm," Emma said breathlessly, touching her charm fondly. "Your sense of humor is terrible."

A small smile crossed Remus's face as he cupped her cheek. "No matter how far apart we are, it will always get warm when one of us is touching it. I have one for Sirius as well," Remus explained quickly, leaning down to kiss the top of Emma's head. "I love you so much. Don't you ever forget it." He pulled Emma into a tight hug, pulled out the envelopes he had tucked under his arm, and pressed them into Emma's hands. "Don't go all summer without writing to someone. These came earlier today because most of them were rerouted. I wasn't aware that charms were set to keep other owls out. Write to your friends, sweetheart. They're worried about you. I'm not sure if I'll be able to see you again before the full, but it'll be fine. We'll be fine."

Emma gave a small nod, her smile falling from her face until Remus gently touched his charm again. She tucked the letters into her bag with a sigh.

"Take the feather – it'll drop you off somewhere near the park," Remus said, gently ushering Emma over to the table. She reached out for the feather and immediately froze, looking at Remus with wide eyes.

"Daddy, I'm afraid that Fenrir is going to do something with the full," she said quietly. "I don't have a good feeling about it."

The thought had crossed Remus's mind at least a hundred times, but he forced a smile on his face and pulled Emma in for another hug. "I don't either," Remus admitted, "but we just have to hope that everything will be fine. I love you, fy nghariad bach – be safe."

☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾

It was just as well that things worked out the way they did. Through a stroke of very dumb luck, Emma managed to get back to the children's home before two Ministry officials came to check on her as well. Emma eyed both men warily – both Aurors that had been at her grandfather's, but she didn't remember their names. She didn't appreciate being asked so many questions about her whereabouts, but she was careful with her responses. They suspected that she had been home, but Emma would never tell them the truth. Her alibi that she had been at the park fit perfectly as her jeans were stained from her falling over where she was deposited. She expected the feather to be like a Portkey, but she didn't expect to be dropped so hard onto the ground.

She spent the rest of her day going through the letters that Remus gave her, feeling slightly guilty that she never wrote to anyone. She wasn't surprised to find three letters from Hermione, another from Justin, Harry's reply, and several from George. A wide, beaming smile crossed her face when she discovered she had one from Sirius among the pile. That meant he was still safe, and that seemed far more important.

The cold that had been threatening to take over finally made its appearance in the early evening. She was impressed that her body held off so long, but it was miserable once it took hold. It took Emma a few hours to realize that her cold was much worse than a cold, and she hunkered down in her bed. Her body was starting to feel feverish, and she began to shiver, despite the warm night. She finished her conversation with Remus in her notebook and held tight to the charm on her bracelet. A sleepy smile crossed her face as she felt the returning warmth.

True to his word, Fenrir didn't appear that night. Fenrir dropped Boris off again, and Emma was surprisingly grateful to see the boy. He wasn't very talkative, which worked out well enough for Emma. She wasn't in the mood to talk anyway.

"It's not that I don't want to talk to you," he said, eyes scanning the area around where he stood, "but Fenrir said that I need to be alert tonight." Boris looked back at Emma, giving her a once over. "And you look like you really need the sleep. Does Fenrir know that you have a fever?"

"Probably not," Emma said, slowly climbing into bed. "I wasn't like this when he left."

Boris only nodded, a slightly concerned look crossing his face. "I'll be sure to let him know when he returns for me."

It was frustrating to Emma that she was awoken by Fenrir just as the sun was coming up, and she felt much worse. All she wanted to do was sleep, but Fenrir insisted she stay up for a few minutes to check how she was actually feeling. When a growl rolled up her throat, she didn't bother to stop it. It was a disturbingly feral response that she didn't particularly like, but Fenrir aggravated her. Emma decided that she hated the deceptively kind version of Fenrir more than the brooding and demanding version of the werewolf.

Emma recalled with increasing frustration that she felt the way she did the previous summer. She wasn't yet taking the Wolfsbane Potion then, and she wasn't looking forward to the stabbing pains that were sure to follow. Her skin already felt like it was fire, itchy, and tight. Her head was pounding, and the light of the sun wasn't making it any better. The more she thought about how the next two days would go, the more tempted she was to just have Fenrir bite her. At least then, weeks without Wolfsbane would be easier to manage if it had to happen again.

Her aggravation momentarily subsided when Fenrir Disapparated, but it swiftly returned when she was awoken once more. She growled at him, not caring much for words, but her growls died out when she noticed the canister in his hands. Her stomach decided to betray her when the smell of whatever he had brought back with him hit her nose. She was unaware of how hungry she actually was, and the aroma was tantalizing, making her salivate.

"That's what I thought," Fenrir said, sitting down on the bed next to her and helping her sit back up. He sounded bored, acting as if he was dealing with a petulant child, and Emma was sure she seemed precisely like that in her current state. "When was the last time you ate?"

"A few days ago," Emma muttered. She stared dubiously at the canister, feeling like it was a trick that something Fenrir would bring back could smell so good. It was even worse when he unscrewed the top, and she was greeted with the scent of an excellent smelling soup. She looked at Fenrir questioningly; while it looked to be a regular chicken soup, she didn't put it past him to make it be something like rabbit. Fenrir chuckled as he picked up on that very thought.

"It's chicken," he said, lifting the canister up. "Though we did have rabbit, I didn't believe that my Rabbit would appreciate it. It was made fresh by one of the pack, just for you. It would be best for you to eat so that you don't insult anyone."

An annoyed hum left Emma's lips, and she went to take the canister from Fenrir, but he pulled it away. Her mouth fell open at the audacity that he would do such a thing, and he only stared back at her. It took Emma a moment to understand, and her lips pursed – the only way she was going to get the soup is if he fed it to her.

"You need to keep your strength up, Little One," Fenrir said in amusement. "You're clearly not in any shape to do much. We've got some time until the moon."

It was something about how Fenrir carefully phrased his words that made Emma skeptical of his intentions. The usage of Little One gave her goosebumps. It was such an affectionate name Remus used for her that hearing it from Fenrir was disturbing. She had wondered if Fenrir planned to bite her the next night, but up until then, she wasn't sure. Still, Emma relented and allowed Fenrir to feed her like a child, trying to ignore the way he watched her closely. Even her father wasn't like this at her worst; when she couldn't handle doing much without a near-constant shake. Of course, he would help her, but Remus never dared to try and feed her as if she couldn't handle it.

"Tomorrow, Rabbit," Fenrir said simply, stroking her cheek before he stood up.

Emma questioned what Fenrir was talking about, but he only smiled in response before Disapparating once more. She had a big problem on her hands, and she knew it.

Rather than adventuring out into the city like she had hoped, Emma found herself regretfully stuck in Saint Nicholas's. She didn't have the energy, and after the very close call the day before, Remus felt it was safer to play it safe. Unfortunately, Emma had to agree.

She started to leave her room, but an owl that looked similar to Aurora landed on her dresser. Emma stared at the owl curiously, taking in its dark brown feathers with white spots. It was a pretty bird, with a heart-shaped face like Aurora's, but she had no idea who it belonged to.

The owl gave a soft chirp, holding out its leg to present a rolled piece of parchment, bound in neatly knotted string. Emma blinked at it for a moment and startled as the owl gave a loud hoot that she feared would draw attention. She quickly made her way to the owl, taking the letter from its claws, and before she could take another look, the owl was gone.

A frown crossed Emma's face as she looked at the parchment in her hands. How did this owl find her, and what made it so special? Curious, Emma dared to untie the parchment, curious of what its contents might hold.

> _Dearest Elle,_
> 
> _The sea has granted safe passage of this lovely bird! Isn't he handsome? I hope that you find a new friend in Duke. He has made the trip several times, but he has a new journey in mind. He can be of your service if needed – no response required. I can understand your hesitation to correspond with me. I haven't earned it, but I hope that I can._
> 
> _It's been a while since I've written you last! When we spoke during a test of fair fortune, I brought up things of utmost importance. I can't apologize enough for the things I told you, and I hope that you understand my burden. A day doesn't go by where I'm not filled with great regret, and I hope there comes a day when I can prove that to you. I cannot apologize enough. I understand that things have been difficult, and I'm sure it's been worse with the moon so high. Bad things happen when the moon is full, and I hope you're taking care._
> 
> _Remember how I told you once that Saturdays were once my favorite day of the week? I fear that this Saturday will be most difficult if precautions aren't taken. The wind is changing, and our current trajectory has changed quickly. It's best that you lower your sails wherever you are. The other ships will see a strong front, but to keep yourself safe, you must remain unassuming – weak, even. It will buy you more time towards safer passage._
> 
> _I hope that all is well for you, despite the odds. Being separated from everything you know must be difficult, but your ship is still standing. I feel certain that you will find mooring on the shore sometime in the future – nothing can keep you from your destination. I'm sure that the rest of your journey will remain rocky, but you will be where you need to be in time. Everything ebbs and flows with time – you are no different._
> 
> _Here's a bit of trivia I learned - Did you know that when you're sent a Howler, though seemingly innocent enough, they have tricks hidden within the envelope? It's recommended that you approach with caution, but don't let the Howler explode itself. Did you know that multiple Howlers can be sent at once? How silly! If you appear to have multiple Howlers, do not trust the apostles of the Howling one. They pretend to work together, but there is no loyalty there._
> 
> _All my love,_
> 
> _F.E._
> 
> _P.S. – the keeper of the key will be alert and wary. It would be a shame if this were to spontaneously combust._

Emma stared hard at the letter, positive that it wasn't meant to be for her, but that didn't seem right. The writing looked like Persephone's, but who was Elle? Why was the message written so strangely?

"F – E. F – E," Emma repeated to herself under her breath before gasping, "Effie!" Emma took a moment to spell out the initials of her name and shook her head. Pulling Elle out of her initials worked so perfectly that it was a wonder that Emma never thought of it herself. She skimmed the letter quickly – it was all coded just in case the wrong person found it. Emma let out another gasp and promptly grabbed her notebook to write down the letter's contents – she needed to remember it just in case.

Her writing was messy, and she kept splotching the ink as she wrote. She was around half-way done copying the letter in the notebook when she heard the slamming of a door through her open window. Nervous, Emma wiped the notebook clean, tucked the book and her quill into the back of her jeans, and let out a quiet groan. What was she supposed to do with the letter in her hand? She was clearly not meant to have it, and there was very little time left before Ward would get to her room.

 _It would be a shame if this were to spontaneously combust._ The blue flames!

Emma turned her back to the door, anxiously trying to conjure up the flames to light the letter on fire. She could hear Ward's steps getting closer and closer, his heavy-soled shoes echoing as he walked with purpose. He had to have recognized the owl and put things together. With a nervous whimper, Emma channeled every bit of energy she had into pulling the flames together – she just needed one little spark.

While the blue flames didn't arrive, a different sort of magic decided to burst forth, and the letter lit up and turned to ash. It had been a long time since she had done accidental magic, and it was needed. All the same – she had a new problem. She stared at the ash on the floor in alarm and promptly decided to sit down on the floor on top of the ash, grabbing a book from her nightstand. That would seem perfectly normal, right?

Ward rounded the corner of her door just as Emma had herself settled on the floor with her legs stretched out in front of her. She hoped that she looked calm and collected, leaning back against the metal frame of her bed, even though she was anything but. Emma cast Ward a look of concern as his single eye scanned the room, looking for something, anything that would betray what transpired.

"Is something wrong, sir?" Emma asked, her brow furrowing slightly. Her heart was racing, thudding almost painfully in her chest. How long would she have to keep her charade up?

Ward looked at Emma, searching her face for some sign that she was lying. "On the contrary, it appears things are fine," he finally said gruffly. "Thought I heard something from your room."

"You thought you heard something?" Emma questioned. "Like what?"

"I thought I heard a snake," Ward said darkly, taking another look around the room. He nodded slightly and knocked on the doorjamb. "Keep your door open until tonight, Nickels. You should, ah, probably get some fresh air. It's a nice day."

Emma gave Ward a slight smile and nodded. "Of course, sir," she said, waiting impatiently for the man to leave. She let out a deep breath when she heard his steps far enough away. As exhausted as she was, Ward clearly expected her to leave the premises for a while.

Not wanting to leave anything to chance, Emma went into her bag to pull out the letters Remus gave her. She tucked those into the back of her jeans with the notebook, retrieved her knife, and stared into her bag for a moment. Something seemed missing, but she wasn't exactly sure what it was. Emma had to be imagining it – everything that she needed to keep on her person was with her. Everything was still in her bag where it belonged. Not thinking much of it, Emma quickly swept the ash from the letter under her bed, scattering it to look like dust, and went on her way.

She went to the park, grateful that it was close enough for her to make it there comfortably. It was far enough away from Saint Nicholas's, but close enough she could make it back. Emma pulled her notebook back out to finish writing out the letter, not at all surprised to find Remus's confused responses.

Emma grimaced when she realized that she had forgotten what chunks of the letter had said. She tried her best to write down what she could remember.

' _It's obviously from Persephone,_ ' Emma wrote, trying to read through everything she had copied. ' _But I don't understand what she was trying to tell me. Not entirely. All I figured out right away was that the owl is Caspian's, and his name is Duke. I'm not sure on the rest._ '

She watched as Remus's reply came back slowly, ' _The Howlers are Greyback and everyone involved. The winds changing means that something has changed again, but it's not clear what. I'm concerned over the mention of the full moon and Saturday._ '

Emma frowned slightly at that, chewing her bottom lip. ' _I don't understand what Saturday has to do with anything when the full moon is tomorrow_ ,' Emma wrote back.

' _The full moon ends on Saturday, love. When was the last time you were with Fenrir?_ '

' _Last night_.'

Remus's response was a little slower to come, but she swore she could feel his anxious energy through the notebook. _'Tell me everything that happened_.'

Emma blew out a puff of air and started to write out what happened the night before. She wasn't sure what her father wanted to know, but she wrote everything she could. Emma hesitated to bring up what Fenrir said about Jude, but it would have come up regardless. She decided to go back and write out the things that had happened each night with a sigh. It meant admitting she had been with Fenrir more often than she had let on. Emma hated the idea of disappointing her father, but Fenrir left her with few options, and she didn't know how to get around it. She wrote exactly that.

' _You are doing everything correctly for the situation you are in – I do not want you to think otherwise. I cannot begin to tell you how proud I am of you for doing this on your own, and I am so sorry that you have to do any of this at all. I know it doesn't seem like it, but you are doing the right things. The more submissive you seem to Greyback, the safer you will be. Take advantage of what he offers but understand there's a motive. He's working alone, but that doesn't mean you're safe from the others if what Greyback told you is at all true. I'm not sure what to believe just yet, but I do know how Greyback works_ ,' Remus wrote, drawing a relieved sigh from Emma's lips. Her relief was short-lived as she read what her father wrote next, her blood running cold. ' _I know that you are exhausted, I know that you are hurting, but you need to make it seem like you're doing more poorly than you are. Greyback is trying to bring your energy back up because he plans to move forward with his new plan. I'm not sure how to get around the rest of his plan just yet, but I promise that I will do everything in my power to keep you from his pack. But that's not the current concern. I don't think we should discount Persephone as an ally yet. She's trying to save you from being turned._ '

Emma wasn't sure that she even had to pretend to be worse off than she was. By the time she made it back to Saint Nicholas's, everything about her was sluggish. She frowned when she realized her things were disturbed, but she had expected that was why Ward wanted her to leave. He was looking for evidence that someone had written to her, but she had taken everything necessary with her just in case.

She changed quickly into her pajamas and jumped into bed. There was no way she was going to be able to stay up long enough to know when her door was finally locked for the night. Emma gave the charm on her bracelet a small squeeze with a soft giggle. Remus's sense of humor was terrible sometimes, but the paw print charm was pretty funny when she thought about it. It had such a silly double-meaning that it was nothing short of perfect for their strange little family. A smile crossed her face at the returning warmth against her wrist. Nothing would ever convince her that her father wasn't the best gift-giver in the world, and she slipped into an uneasy sleep.

Her sleep was once again disturbed, but this time by Boris. She didn't entirely mind because he brought more of the soup that she had that morning. Emma let out an exasperated sigh when Boris tried to feed her like Fenrir did.

"Boris, please – it was embarrassing enough to have Fenrir feed me this morning," Emma said, taking the container of soup from his hands. "I can do at least this much. Just…don't tell him, and I promise not to say a word."

It made Boris look uneasy, but he nodded. "I'll just make sure you won't drop it, then," he said, his tone sounding more like a question than a statement.

"That is more than fine," Emma said with a weak smile. She studied Boris for a moment, waiting to see if the boy ever relaxed, but he never did; he was always on alert. It made her wonder if the other werewolves in Fenrir's pack were the same way – guarded and nervous but somehow confident. She figured she might as well try and make conversation until she was ready to fall back asleep. "So, Boris, what do you do for fun?"

Just like every other time Emma addressed Boris, he looked at her with wide eyes. This time a delighted little smile crossed his face, and he gladly jumped into telling Emma the things he liked to do. Emma had a feeling the boy didn't get asked that question very often.

She had finished her soup, but Boris still continued to talk about his time in the pack. He spoke at great lengths about how much he liked hunting and how he liked to make things with his hands. If something needed to be built, Boris was the first to volunteer. Football games were frequent among the other teenagers and the younger children, and he enjoyed playing as much as possible. Boris liked to read a lot, but he wasn't good at it. When Boris mentioned that the letters seemed to move around, it left Emma baffled; she had never heard of something like that before.

"It's all right," Boris said with a shrug. "Sometimes, I find someone else to read to me, and I memorize the story."

"Does Fenrir keep a lot of books for you all to read?" Emma asked, curious.

Boris frowned and shook his head. "No. That's one of the first things that gets left when we have to find a new camp. We try to bring a few of the popular ones, but they're old and fall apart. Quite a few of them are missing pages, and we have to make the stories up."

Emma thought about it for a moment. She couldn't imagine how hard it would be to have to move so often. Fenrir had taken to staying in areas longer than usual the past few years, but Boris mentioned the possibility they would have to move more frequently soon. "Boris, I didn't get to ask you when you told me about the pack, but how old is the youngest member?"

"Uhm, Caddock's six," Boris said. "We call him Ducky."

The desire to ask more about how Caddock came to join the pack sat on the tip of Emma's tongue, but she couldn't bring herself to ask. "And of the females?"

"You're the youngest," Boris said after a moment. "We've had younger females in the pack, but they never survive for very long."

"Why not?"

"The other males kill them," Boris said so off-handedly that it took Emma by surprise. It sounded like it was a regular occurrence that young females didn't live for very long. "But you're different. Even if Fenrir wasn't taking you as his mate, you're the pup of the alpha's first turn. You're prized. That very rarely happens."

Emma was going to rip her hair out if she had to hear Boris mention Fenrir taking her as "his mate" one more time. She would play the game for as long as she had to, but she was never going to let that happen.

"Fenrir said the moon blessed your union," Boris said from his spot on the floor, peering out the window to try and find the moon in the sky. "A reward for after we undergo our gift."

"Uh, I'm sorry, what was that?" Emma asked in alarm. "The union, bit?"

"The moon blessed your union," Boris said slowly, looking at Emma in confusion. "He didn't tell you? This moon is special."

Emma could only stare blankly at Boris, and her thoughts immediately turned back to Persephone's letter. With a flip of her stomach, Emma realized that Persephone was trying to save her from so much more.

She tried to keep herself calm as she grabbed her notebook and activated it quietly. The only two people who could get into the notebooks were her and her father – she was glad they thought to add that charm. ' _Please be up. I was just given more information, and I need help_ ,' Emma wrote, reaching for her bracelet, hoping that she could grab Remus's attention that way, even though it was late. Luckily his response came quickly.

' _What is it? What's going on?_ '

Emma felt guilty when she saw the jerkiness of her father's writing, but hers was no different. " _Boris just told me that Fenrir said our union was blessed by the moon – tomorrow's moon. I desperately need you to tell me that it doesn't mean what I think it does._ '

The resounding lack of response that she was met with did not bode well. She wasn't particularly surprised to see Elara's writing come through instead.

' _Emma, you are going to need to fight and fight hard. Take your father's advice – remain submissive, act weak, but trust your instincts and fight when you have to fight. Go to bed, save your strength just in case you need it._ '

Elara's writing cut off quickly, and Remus started writing quickly. ' _When I report to the Ministry tomorrow, I'm going to tell them that you need accommodations for the moon. I can't guarantee that it will be comfortable, because it won't be, but it's to keep you safe. Keep yourself safe, play the game – I love you, I love you, I love you. Let me know you're still safe with your bracelet – I'm not taking it off._ '

"Are you all right?" Boris suddenly asked, making Emma jump.

Emma's wide-eyed gaze shot up to meet Boris's concerned gaze, and she giggled nervously. "I, uhm, yeah, I'm fine," Emma said. "Just tired."

' _I love you, too. I love you both. I'll do what I need to do – I can do this,_ ' Emma wrote back quickly. Emma wasn't sure that she believed herself, but she had to hope that she could, and she let out a long breath as she cleared the book.

"You should probably go to bed, then," Boris said, his lips pursing slightly. He didn't look like he believed her. "You're looking ill again."

Emma gave a slight nod, tucking her things back under her pillow and lying down. She wasn't sure that she was going to be able to sleep at all. With shaky breaths, Emma gripped hard to her bracelet. At first, Emma thought the heat radiating from the charm was because she didn't let go of it, but then she realized Remus was doing the same. He was just as scared as she was.

How Emma managed to sleep at all, she had no idea. When she awoke, the sun was bright, and the air was on the cooler side, and her room was noticeably empty of Boris. She half expected to be woken up again by Fenrir and was relieved that her morning started off werewolf free. Emma was terrified of what the next twenty-four hours could possibly bring. She was even more terrified when she tried to sit up and realized that was a near-impossible task as her head exploded in pain and her muscles protested. Her fever was persistent.

With a pained groan, Emma reached under her pillow to check her book. She frowned at the repetitious writing of "I love you" over and over and over. Remus very rarely showed any signs of his distress, and he was worried. His advice was still the same – act weak, play the game, stay safe.

Emma looked over at her clock and frowned as she looked at the time. Remus's twenty-four hour stay at the Ministry would have already started, so he wouldn't have his book. She held her charm for a few seconds and waited for the returning warmth. A part of her worried it wasn't going to come, but then it did. At least they had that much.

She did the absolute bare minimum that she had to. It was difficult, but she managed to pull herself into the shower to bring some sort of relief to her aching body. She nearly laughed at herself when she looked at herself in the mirror – deathly pale with the darkest circles she had ever seen. It was similar to how Sirius looked before he started getting regular meals.

The moment Emma made it back into bed, that was where she remained, curled up on her side and trying to read. Her eyelids slowly started to droop as she read the same passage three times, and she didn't bother trying to fight the betrayal. She wanted to stay up, but it felt foolish when her body clearly wanted to sleep. Emma didn't think she would have issues sleeping through the moon…provided things didn't go terribly wrong.

"Is it usually this bad?"

Emma was half-asleep already, and she thought she was dreaming. There was no reason why Fenrir would show up to Saint Nicholas's so early.

Her eyes opened lazily, unable to be urged to move any faster. She took a quick look around – she was definitely still in her room and not in a dream world. Her heart began to race as she met Fenrir's eyes. What was he doing in her room so early? She took another quick look around and frowned when she noticed her windows were shut. Emma didn't recall closing her windows as she had been enjoying the cool breeze. When Fenrir stepped further into her room and closed the door behind him, a chill ran down Emma's spine. The energy had shifted.

"Lost your voice, Rabbit?" Fenrir asked, an eyebrow arching as he sat down on her bed. He studied Emma for a moment before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I…yes," she said when she found her voice again. "The potion helps…"

Fenrir hummed thoughtfully, looking displeased as he brushed his knuckles against her cheek. "It's been quite some time since I've seen a pup in this shape," Fenrir said with a slight growl. "You're too dehydrated, and you haven't eaten enough – you should have said something much sooner."

"Didn't think about it," Emma murmured. The room was starting to get too warm and was making her sleepier. She needed to stay awake, but her eyes wanted to close.

"Stupid girl," Fenrir muttered. "You've been killing yourself this entire time. Are you aware of how hard your heart has been working to keep you alive?"

"No, but you should have known," Emma challenged, shooting Fenrir as much of a glare as she could. "Thought you took care of what was yours."

Fenrir's growl was soft as he reached underneath Emma's body to pull her up. Emma felt like a rag doll as he slipped himself behind her, pulling her back against his chest. "Stupid, stupid girl," he tutted. "You're lucky, Rabbit. You're no use to me dead."

Emma's eyes opened slowly, she wanted to cast Fenrir a confused look, but she spotted the vial of Wolfsbane held in front of her first. At first, she thought it was one of her missing doses, but the vial was different than the one Snape used.

"You've been taking Wolfsbane?" Emma asked incredulously, her voice cracking. Her brain slowly began to wake up, startled for a moment out of her sleepy haze. "You were going to turn me tonight."

"It would have made your life easier; I was helping you. I needed to make sure I could stop myself, so I didn't kill you," Fenrir said gruffly, opening the vial. He pressed the bottle to Emma's lips. "There's no reason for you to be suffering like this, but you wouldn't survive at this rate. Drink."

Reluctantly, Emma opened her mouth to let Fenrir tip the potion into her mouth. She pulled a face when she downed the liquid, shivering slightly. Emma couldn't stop herself from practically melting back into Fenrir at the first signs of relief. As much as she hated the foul little potion, it did wonders, and she relaxed significantly. Fenrir wasn't going to bite her, and that was one hurdle jumped. She just hoped that he wouldn't change his mind, and she relaxed further as he massaged her scalp, helping to ease her pounding headache. Emma yawned as she found herself more and more relaxed. She didn't mind this, and all worries were forgotten.

"Don't even think of trying to fall asleep on me, Rabbit," Fenrir purred. "I'm not done with you yet. We still have to get your memories back into that pretty little head of yours."

Emma's eyes shot back open in a panic. She had entirely forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	13. Found Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TW:** _*spoiler free*_ Fenrir Greyback is his own warning - Non-graphic (skip to end for further explanation before reading if you are concerned)

Emma tried to pull herself away from Fenrir, but his arm snaked around her middle to hold her where she was. It felt just like last time, but there was something considerably off about Fenrir that left her on edge. She looked at him over her shoulder, trying to figure out what was wrong. Emma wasn't particularly fond of him holding her like this last time, and while she didn't feel threatened, the hold was possessive.

"D-do you think that's really a good idea?" Emma asked nervously. "With how bad it hurt last time –"

"You know what to expect," Fenrir said simply, his free hand running through her hair, brushing the strands away from her face. "It should be a similar experience."

"That means you don't even know."

Fenrir hummed softly in confirmation, tucking Emma's hair behind her ear. "I don't, but you know I won't let you suffer. You know you have my word on that."

"So then you got everything, then?"

"I did. It took much longer than I wanted. I had to make sure certain parties weren't aware of the changes."

"Well, last I checked, there was only you, Jude, and Ellis," Emma scoffed. "You already got what you did from Ward. Seemed like a pretty closed deal. Can't imagine it was too difficult."

"Yes, but I needed to find someone who would be…willing…to put together the potion for me. Obviously, Ward doesn't have any plans to work with me."

"I'm assuming the same person who made the Wolfsbane for you?"

Fenrir chuckled, leaning down to kiss Emma's cheek, laughing at Emma's growl. "And there's that intelligence that I love to see. You're just terrible at taking care of yourself."

Emma's lips pursed as she turned her face forward. "Not the first time I've heard that one." She had certainly heard Remus tell her precisely that multiple times.

"Let me guess, your father has told you the very same?"

Once again, Emma didn't like Fenrir's tone, and she certainly didn't like how carefully he phrased his words. "Possibly," Emma said slowly.

Emma felt Fenrir shift to pull something else out, and she decided to try and put together the situation while she had time. Fenrir had picked up a new coat at some point, which meant he was carrying multiple items on his person. He usually tucked things into his boots, up his sleeves, or in the front pocket of whatever shirt he wore, but the coat had a purpose. The windows were closed, which was very unlike something Fenrir would do. However, the door being closed was typical.

"Funny, he wrote exactly that," Fenrir said, tossing something on the bed that made Emma's blood run cold. Fenrir calling her a stupid girl was a very apt description. The thing she had been missing was the guide her father wrote for Sirius to know how to take care of her. "It was a very informative read. I've received plenty of information from the songbird, but your father confirmed quite a few things I wasn't sure about. I'll have to remember to thank your father for such insightful information. It's just unfortunate I can't give him the gift I wanted."

"When did you take that?" Emma said breathlessly. "That was –"

"In your bag hidden with the rubbish? Oh, I know," Fenrir said, pulling Emma a little tighter to his chest. "I took it the first night you were here. Should have thought to keep it with your other things when you realized I was outside."

How did Emma not realize it was missing right away? Fenrir was right – she should have kept that with the rest of her things, but it never occurred to her. She was furious with herself for not remembering it and stared hard at the pile of papers. It was worse than someone reading a diary that she didn't keep – everything about her that Remus knew had been written down. The last person she ever wanted to know so much about her was given such an honest and personal look into who she was. She wasn't the same person she was at eleven, and now Fenrir knew that.

"How much from our conversation the other night came from what he wrote?" Emma asked quietly.

"Oh, none of it," Fenrir sighed, pulling Emma's head back to rest against his shoulder. "I got all of that from your…little friend."

For a moment, Emma thought that Fenrir had put Persephone up to writing to her, but the bitter edge in his voice made her think otherwise. "What do you mean?" she asked, hoping that it seemed like she had no idea what he was referring to.

"I have a feeling a certain little songbird decided to sing," Fenrir said with a sigh, "but it doesn't matter. My plans are flexible. Now, if only you would just relax…"

It was frustrating that Fenrir knew the exact spots on her head to massage to take away the edge she felt. It was even worse when her entire body decided to betray her, and she melted back into Fenrir's. The combination of the heat, her exhaustion, and Fenrir's hand in her hair was a recipe for disaster.

"You said plans," Emma said cautiously. "What do you mean by that?"

"You already know," Fenrir said vaguely. "Would you shut up and relax for a few minutes? You know damn well this entire process will be a lot easier if you don't act as if you were petrified by a Basilisk."

That would have been funny if she didn't feel like she needed to be on high alert. Still, Emma tried to relax. At the very least, it would make more sense to preserve some of her energy in case she needed it. She couldn't stop herself from glancing over at the stack of papers sitting on her bed and wondering how she managed to forget about them. How much damage could Fenrir actually do with the knowledge he would come across? It was only sheer luck that Remus included absolutely none of her thoughts on Fenrir in the papers. She knew he talked about her depression and her attempts to take her own life, but what else was there?

"That was incredibly stupid, you know," Fenrir said suddenly.

"What was?" Emma asked.

"Trying to kill yourself."

Emma let out an indignant shout when she realized what Fenrir was doing. She didn't like the idea of Fenrir knowing her thoughts just by touching her. That was something she would have to ask her father about – she didn't like that trait at all. "Could you stay out of my thoughts, please?"

"It's what Jude wanted you to do," Fenrir said gruffly. "By you killing yourself, no one ever would have suspected he had anything to do with it. He took every bit of happiness you had, but I didn't realize Ward had done the same. You were a very happy child, and it would have been a shame to have lost you over something so stupid. I don't even know why you would ever think you weren't loved."

The very thought had crossed Emma's mind a few times after getting her first set of memories back. Besides being incredibly lonely, she had grown up happy, but was she happier than she thought? It terrified her that there was a possibility that she was even more different than she thought, but somehow turned out the way she did. Rather than comment, Emma remained quiet and tried to clear her thoughts. She didn't need Fenrir rifling through any of her fresh thoughts.

It seemed that Fenrir had accepted that Emma wouldn't dare try to escape him and finally released his hold on her. She had to suppress a whine when he stopped massaging her scalp to go back into his pockets. He tossed a vial with a non-reflective lavender liquid onto the bed and one with a clear liquid. The lavender was different than the shimmering lavender but still seemed familiar. It was hard for her to tell when so many potions were made with varying hues of purple. Whatever the clear brew was made her nervous, though. Clear potions were purposely made clear to avoid detection.

At least the concoction with her memories was familiar, and she frowned slightly at the overfull and wispy vials. There was a large number of them being put down, and it made Emma ill. Fenrir pulled out a bottle of the shimmering lavender potion, uncorked it, and had Emma hold it. She was familiar with this process, and she watched curiously as Fenrir tipped each silver vial into the bottle.

"There's a lot more than I thought there would be," Emma muttered as she watched the seventh vial get added.

"Around two or so for every year you were here," Fenrir said, continuing to add the silver vials to the potion. "That's why I'm not sure how uncomfortable it'll be for you. Could be the same, could be worse. There is a lot that needs to settle back where it belongs, and that's why I wanted you relaxed. You're not as relaxed as I hoped you'd be, but it'll do."

One by one, Fenrir continued to add the vials until finally, there was none left. Fenrir took the bottle from Emma's hand and resumed his previous position, his arm locking back around her. He flexed his hand wrapped around her middle, silently asking for her hand again, and Emma sighed, depositing her hand in his.

"Fenrir, I really don't want to do this," Emma said. She quickly turned her face as Fenrir lifted the bottle up, not wanting to allow him to tip the potion into her mouth.

"Tough," Fenrir growled. "I didn't waste my time to do all of this for you to start fighting me on it."

"I'm not fighting you, I just –"

"There's no point in being scared. This was your life."

That was exactly why she was terrified. The pain she could deal with, though she wasn't fond of it. What if she found out she was actually a terrible person? What if she found out that Fenrir had lied to her? What if she learned more about the people she cared about and found they weren't who she thought they were? The idea that everything could be turned upside down scared her.

"You're overthinking this and being difficult," Fenrir said, pressing the bottle to her lips. "The sooner you do this, the sooner it'll be over with. Open."

Emma took in a deep breath through her nose and let it out slowly before opening her mouth. She reluctantly opened her mouth, silently praying to whatever Gods she could think of that she was doing the right thing. She was not remotely prepared to be in the situation that she was.

After having the Wolfsbane, the potion she was forced to drink tasted much sweeter than before, and she nearly choked on it. It was nauseating, and she had to force herself to swallow. She could honestly say that she preferred the taste of the Wolfsbane more than the current brew.

She braced herself for the pain, closing her eyes, and she held tight to Fenrir's hand. Unlike the last time, they were both much more prepared. At the first flash of lightning-like pain, Fenrir was quick to take it away. For the second time ever, Emma was grateful that Fenrir was a werewolf and whatever pain transference powers he had worked. It was a shame that it only worked on others and not the individual werewolf. It would undoubtedly make transformations that much more comfortable, but werewolves were not that lucky if they were alone.

Just like the last time, Fenrir couldn't take the entirety of the pain away. She felt beyond drained, and she was glad that Fenrir didn't rush the process. Emma wasn't sure why she expected to feel different with memories given back to her. There was no logical explanation as to why she would feel different. Still, she felt that there should be something more than just a terrible headache. She was tempted to try and sort through the fresh thoughts spinning in her head, but it was dizzying, and she pushed them all aside. If she didn't think about it, her head didn't hurt as badly.

After a while, Fenrir pulled his hand from hers and reached towards the set aside's vials. Emma slowly cracked open her eyes, her face twisting slightly at how heavy her head felt. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at how stupid the thought was – her head being heavier with more memories. She didn't like the feeling; it made her feel like she was in a fog all over again.

"What's that one?" Emma asked, straightening up as Fenrir picked up the purple vial.

"Something to help you," Fenrir said, pulling her flush against his chest. "Do you trust me?"

Did she trust Fenrir? That was a question she wasn't sure that she had answered for herself just yet. It was such a vague and open question that she wasn't sure how to respond. She supposed in some ways she did, though she was wary. Emma knew that she could trust Fenrir to do precisely as he said, even in his threats. She tried to keep her thoughts brief, running through everything she knew, everything she was told. _Play the game_ , she was told – and so she did.

"Yes," she said quietly. She hoped that she wouldn't regret it later.

There was silence for a moment, and a pleased growl rolled up Fenrir's throat. "Good," he purred, uncorking the vial and pressing it to Emma's lips. "Open again."

This potion tasted strange, like ginger and licorice. There was something vaguely familiar with the taste of the potion, but she couldn't pinpoint what. She tried to think of every purple potion she had ever had in her life, but nothing with that flavor combination came to mind. It was the warmth that came with it that left Emma curious, her headache dulling considerably. That was unexpected and very nice, considering she had no idea what it was.

Fenrir was quick to reach out for the final vial, the one that made Emma nervous. "And that one?" Emma asked. This time Fenrir didn't immediately respond, only going through the same motions they had gone through. Emma looked back at Fenrir skeptically, but he arched an eyebrow at her, and she felt it was best to not fight it. The brew was cold, and the more she drank, she was left with an uneasy feeling of emptiness. She wasn't sure what she was empty of, her head still felt heavy, but something felt considerably off about her. At first, she thought Fenrir had drugged her, finally lying to her about something. She felt no different than before – just had an unsettling feeling that something was wrong. If the sweeping cold that came from the brew didn't worry her, Fenrir's words would have done it for her.

"And that one was for me," he said in a tone that sent a shiver down her spine.

Emma immediately tensed up, trying to make sense of everything. Whatever lingering pain she felt, she pushed aside, trying to force herself to try and think rationally. Fenrir set aside the final vial, and his hand came up the stroke along the column of her throat before his fingers wrapped loosely around her neck.

"I imagine Boris told you…the good news," Fenrir rasped in her ear.

Every bit of air departed Emma's lungs at the sudden and crippling understanding of what Fenrir's plans were. "B-but he said –"

"I know exactly what he told you," Fenrir muttered, "but my plans, unfortunately, have to be flexible. I figured I would take my reward early for all of my hard work…"

 _No, no, no, no, no._ This could not be happening. Emma twisted herself as best as she could in Fenrir's grasp. She trusted him – _she said she trusted him_. Her breath hitched at the sudden press of his lips just behind her ear, and she froze with fear. This wasn't what the plan was; this wasn't what she had prepared herself for. She was completely and utterly at a loss of what to do.

"Fenrir, no," Emma whimpered as he gripped her chin, tilting her head to gain better access to her neck. "Please stop…"

She felt as though she would be sick. How stupid could she be? She had walked directly into Fenrir's trap. As her gaze swept back over to the traitorous stack of papers, she realized she helped him because she completely forgot about something so crucial. He had toed the line with her, making sure that she could find reasons to trust him. She was given no reason to believe that he would ever actually hurt her, despite his threats. Fenrir would have done it much sooner if he was serious, but she was no good to him dead.

Emma was so sure that everything would have gone how she was told, but just like so many others, she underestimated Fenrir. He always did exactly as he said in the end.

Fenrir drew back from her, releasing his hold on her face. For the first time in a long time, Emma was genuinely terrified of Fenrir and what he could do to her. She turned her head to look over her shoulder at him again. She searched his eyes, desperately looking for something to show that she could somehow appeal to whatever humanity he had left. The more she tried to find it, the more she realized there was nothing there. Whatever warmth she had once been able to find in Fenrir's eyes had disappeared.

"No, fy lleuad bach?" Fenrir asked, his voice cold and mocking. "You want me to stop?"

Emma was left speechless by the sudden Welsh that left Fenrir's mouth. She was so accustomed to her father's accent and her own that it never even clicked with her that Fenrir shared something else with them. Her brain had somehow conflated a Welsh accent with being safe, and she felt herself deflate.

She wanted to tell Fenrir that she wanted him to stop, but the words weren't forming. The hand not wrapped around her neck went up to her hair to stroke it. For one brief, hopeful moment, Emma thought perhaps Fenrir would actually reconsider. Just when she thought she was in the clear, his eyes darkened, and his lips pulled back into that twisted smile she hated so much.

"What is it, fy lleuad bach?" Fenrir whispered in her ear. "Are you afraid of what the big, bad wolf is going to do to you?"

Emma finally gave in to the tears that pooled in her eyes and let them fall. She couldn't fight like this. "Fenrir, p-please," she whimpered. "Don't do this…"

"Shh, Little One. I promise I'll be gentle. I don't want to break you…yet."

No amount of kicking or screaming, pleading, or crying was going to make Fenrir stop what he was going to do. The closed windows and the closed door suddenly made sense – he didn't want someone to interfere in his plans. The realization only made her sob harder, but her tears only encouraged Fenrir further.

Fenrir liked her like this – begging for him to stop what he was doing, drunk off the power he had over her. She was weak in all senses of the word, worn down from not receiving the care she required and devastating betrayal. She didn't _want_ this; this wasn't supposed to happen – not yet. There was supposed to be hours before Fenrir was even meant to consider going this far. She should have been able to sleep a little bit, given time to recover, but he took advantage of the situation.

Emma fought like she was told to do, but the more she resisted, the more relentless Fenrir became. He eventually grew tired of her fighting, but so did she. Fenrir made it very clear that he was the predator, and she was his prey. She was his prize for a job well done, for something she never even wanted in the first place.

When she couldn't fight anymore, she settled for crying quietly. She was too tired to even sob. All she could hope for was that it would be over quick. At least she couldn't say that she didn't fight like she was told to. She tried, and somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind, she desperately hoped that would count for something.

It was stupid that one of the only thought that could cross Emma's mind was the fact that Fenrir had just torn through her favorite pair of jeans. He couldn't be bothered with buttons or zippers.

Her jeans were soft and incredibly well-worn, the knees ripped from wear and from her clumsiness. A patch had been sewn over a particular large tear on her right thigh that she loved to touch because it came from an old and ripped shirt of her father's. The jeans had probably been through several magical adjustments she wasn't aware of to support her growth, but she loved them. She had decorated the cuffs with suns, and stars, and moons – the three things that had become important to her. The legs of her jeans had her favorite song lyrics written on them, small tributes to the songs that made her happiest. She had convinced Remus to contribute to the lyrics, adding his favorite words from the songs that meant so much to them. On one of Sirius's hidden stays in their quarters at Hogwarts, she managed to convince him as well. His song choices inspiring in their own way.

They were the pair of jeans that she had worn to King's Cross the first day of her third year, multiple adventures with her father around the castle and the Shrieking Shack. The jeans were proof that she had finally started living. She had finally found reasons to live, reasons to move forward. This. Wasn't. Fair.

It was only during the errant musings about her jeans that she realized Fenrir had stopped. All of his weight was still pressed against her – _all_ of him was pressed against her – but he stopped. It was a shame he couldn't have stopped _before_ tearing her jeans. Maybe, if she asked, Remus could fix them for her, but she wondered if she would even want to keep them after this.

Emma remained where she was even well after his weight left her body. Was it one minute? Two minutes? Fifteen? Twenty? When had he flipped her onto her stomach? She had no idea. When she was finally able to push herself up shakily from the mattress, Emma realized that she was covered again. Her jeans fit much looser, but they seemed to be in one piece. Had she completely missed something? Did she imagine everything? Was that clear potion something to make her hallucinate?

A fresh breeze rolled back into her room, and she stared curiously out the open windows. When had that happened? She felt like she was going mental; nothing was fitting together anymore.

She startled violently when she turned towards the door and saw Ward staring at her hard with his one eye from the doorway.

"You would have deserved it if he fucked you. Clean yourself up." And then Ward was gone, closing the door and leaving her alone in her too white and too empty room.

 _Well, fuck you, too,_ Emma wanted to spit out. That had at answered one of her questions, at least, but left her confused. Apparently, she didn't imagine everything, but for some reason, nothing happened. She couldn't imagine Fenrir would be happy about that, but she didn't know what to make of it. What exactly had made him stop? Was it Ward? Was it Fenrir's realization that it was wrong after telling her she was too young still? Emma had no idea, but she wasn't going to question it.

She became acutely aware that parts of her body felt like they were on fire. The dull ache in her head had magnified to a point she wasn't sure she could function, but she had to. The moment she recognized pain, the worse it became. Emma allowed herself a moment of pity before trying to stand. She only had herself to rely on. She had no friends where she was.

Every part of her body was trembling as if she were hit with the Cruciatus. It was disturbing that she suddenly had a clear understanding of what the spell did. She never had any idea before, but it sat at the surface of her thoughts – _burning, red-hot, stabbing pain_. It was a very uncomfortable reminder of where she came from.

Walking was a challenge, but she forced herself over to her dresser, intending to take another shower. She needed one desperately to wash away her nerves, and she quickly found Remus's borrowed jumper and held it close. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she remembered her bracelet, and she reached for the paw print charm, waiting and waiting and waiting, but no returning warmth came. Maybe they had forced Remus to take it off at the Ministry…

When Emma made it over to the bathroom, she frowned at just how terrible she looked. She was pale, but her face was red from her tears. Her dark circles had faded ever so slightly, and there was something different about herself, but she wasn't sure what. She frowned at herself as she undressed, slowly beginning to understand just why her body felt so hot.

Fenrir had left thick and bloody scratches on her body, and Emma couldn't explain the strange mixture of hot and cold she felt. She didn't even realize what he had been doing, and she turned herself to look at her body in the mirror. There were so many scratches – along her ribs, her back, and deep gouges in her hips. A whine escaped her lips as she surveyed the damage because they were never going to disappear. Fenrir said everyone would know who she belonged to; there was no denying that it was his doing. This was the sort of thing that he did to people, and she could no longer say he had never hurt her.

She was grateful for the small favor that he didn't touch her face, and the scars could be covered. It would be easy to pretend that they weren't there once they healed. It was the mental scars that would be harder to forget.

Emma wanted to just collapse on the floor and cry, overtired, hungry, and scared. She wanted a decent, home-cooked meal, her stuffed animals, her books, and a warm, safe, loving, and comforting cuddle. Perhaps the next day, when the full moon had passed, she could get all of that. It gave her something to look forward to, and she forced herself to think about the possibility. By the time she could meet up with her father, he would have rested long enough to support Apparating them to the cottage. She could have everything she wanted the next day, and she could cry to her heart's content. Emma wanted to completely fall apart, but she wanted to be somewhere comfortable. She could hold on for a little while longer.

As tired as she was, Emma was restless. She had every intention of going to her room, but something pulled her out to the children's lounge. With a book in hand, Emma settled herself on the couch in front of the television, grateful that it was a nice enough day that most of the children went outside. Finn, Raewyn, and Brennan were sitting at a nearby table together, giggling over something. They fell silent as they noticed Emma, but she took their sudden quietness as her ability to tune everything out around her. She didn't expect to have company.

Finn slowly walked up to Emma, sitting herself down on the couch next to her. "Are you okay?" Finn asked her in a voice so quiet, Emma almost didn't hear her.

Emma looked up from her book to meet Finn's concerned gaze. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing wanted to come out. Emma could only shake her head, her throat painfully tight. The idea of talking seemed miserable, and she wasn't entirely sure she could talk anymore, her throat ripped apart from her screams. It was no wonder Fenrir shut the windows and silenced the room – with how pained her throat felt, all of York probably could have heard her. But why didn't she have any sort of accidental magic flare?

Curious, Emma tested her ability to make the blue flames, and when she couldn't conjure them, she understood. Fenrir had everything planned in detail and left no stone unturned. Her magic was suppressed all over again. That's why the clear potion was for him – the bastard. He knew that if she set off any accidental magic, it would be dangerous. She just wished she knew how long it lasted.

"Was that man that was here a werewolf? The big scary looking one?" Emma nodded, and Finn turned ghostly white, gulping. "Did he…did he hurt you? I saw…there was blood in his nails."

Should she lie to Finn? How could she? Finn was looking at her with her vibrant brown eyes, worried and concerned. Emma frowned when she noticed the fear in Finn's eyes. Emma could never blame Finn for being scared. She was downright terrified of Fenrir all over again; he would be happy about that. Reluctantly Emma nodded, and Finn looked as though she might cry.

"Will you be okay?" Finn whispered.

Finn was absolutely going to be a Hufflepuff. Emma could feel it with every fiber of her being that this funny little child was going to be a badger in a little over a month. Emma gave a slight shrug in response. She wasn't entirely sure, but Finn gave a small resolute nod, leaning over to rest her head on Emma's arm.

"Is this okay?" Finn asked, looking up at Emma. A small smile crossed Finn's face when Emma gave an uncertain nod. "Okay, good. I don't want you to be hurt anymore."

Brennan and Raewyn slowly joined them, asking if Emma was okay before looking at each other, unsure of what to do. Brennan looked back at the television, gears turning in his head, and he quickly forced the smaller children out of the way that sat on the floor. He rummaged through the cart of video cassettes and pulled one out with a brilliant smile.

"This movie is one of my favorites," he said brightly, spinning it around so Emma could see the title. If she felt up to it, she might have laughed that his favorite movie was Beetlejuice.

That was where Emma stayed for the duration of the movie, not really watching but trying to sort through her thoughts. Half-way through the film, Emma became acutely aware that she had somehow inherited three eleven-year-olds. Finn seemed to like her best, keeping a part of herself attached to Emma at all times. Raewyn sat in one corner of the couch, her legs outstretched with one foot in Emma's lap. Brennan sat on the floor in front of her, and Emma couldn't help but reach out to ruffle the boy's hair. He tipped his head back with a smile, and Emma's heart broke. All of them were just as touch starved as she once was, and when Brennan leaned into her touch, she couldn't deprive him.

With a soft breath, Emma ran her hand through Brennan's hair, and he leaned unconsciously back against her legs. Finn smiled up at Emma when she realized what she was doing, and the corner of Emma's lips twitched. Emma flung an arm around Finn's shoulders to pull the girl closer. It wasn't comfortable, her scratches burned, but Brennan and Finn were more important than her pain. Emma looked questioningly over at Raewyn and jerked her head in invitation. Raewyn nibbled her lip for a moment, looking unsure, but slowly but surely, she made her way closer to Emma. She turned herself so that she could lay down, curling up with her head on Emma's lap.

This was something they all shared. While the new Hogwarts trio had started to become fast friends, Emma still didn't know them well. Still, the four of them all had a special connection that could only be made with a shared experience. All four knew what it was like to feel lonely and scared, wanting to find a place where they fit in. All four of them knew what it was like to be different, trying to find the love of others wherever they could. While the trio hadn't been placed with their new families yet, they found a family with Emma.

Emma's purpose in life had somehow gotten that much more difficult. These were three people that she could never let down. She would have to pull herself together sooner rather than later – after she confided everything to her father, of course.

When she felt that she could no longer stay awake for much longer, Emma made her retreat back to her room. She snatched up Remus's guide and shoved it back into her bag where it should have been the entire time. Emma felt the impulse to write in her notebook, and though she wasn't sure if it would work, she tried to activate the book. When nothing showed up, she pressed the book to her forehead. She was nothing more than a Squib for as long as the potion was in her system, and she hoped it ran out fast.

Even though she couldn't write in her notebook, Emma wondered if she could write to someone else. Persephone wrote that she could use Duke to write back to her, but was the owl still around? Even though her information wasn't entirely accurate, at least she had known about certain aspects of Fenrir's plan beforehand. That counted for something.

Getting up carefully from her bed, Emma made her way to her windows. She leaned outside, over the bushes, and breathed out a relieved sigh when she found the owl in one of the trees. She looked at her watch, trying to do some quick math. If Persephone was around and able to, she could have a response back by six that evening. Taking a chance, Emma rushed over to her dresser to rip out a pen and paper. She just hoped that she could get the answers she was looking for.

Emma was curled up in her bed when Duke finally returned, the sky just starting to get dark. It took longer than Emma had hoped for a response, but an answer came, and that's what mattered. Ward had left for the day sometime after Fenrir's departure, which meant she was safe from his prying. She called the owl to her, unable to move far with the moon's effects starting to take hold.

Persephone's returning letter was just as coded as the first. Emma had been careful to respond in code, and it sounded as though that was the correct move. Ellis had noticed Duke returning and questioned who the letter was from, but Caspian had insisted it was one of his friends. Emma was grateful that she had thought to pen her letter just to "Friend" without picking a particular name. It was a strange greeting, but even Ellis couldn't argue with his son that the message was meant for him.

The apology in this letter was much greater than the one in the first letter from Persephone. Whatever Fenrir had done was entirely off course from what he said he had told Ellis, and she was confused. Fenrir's plan was to bite her, take her to the pack, and force her into whatever twisted fantasy he had of her running the pack with him. Persephone had no idea that Fenrir's mention of taking her with the "moon's blessing" was meant in every sense of the word, and she felt terrible that she didn't realize. Emma couldn't blame Persephone for not knowing when she frequently struggled herself – werewolf culture was complicated. She was learning as she went along, and it was clear to Emma the only way she would genuinely understand would to be in the thick of things. That wasn't a risk she wanted to take. Persephone had no knowledge of the guide Remus wrote but admitted it made a lot more sense. Fenrir had been acting with a cocky arrogance unlike anything she had seen before.

Emma was meant to be held hostage to bring Remus back into the pack but with no hopes of letting her go even if he returned. Fenrir knew that by taking her, it meant Remus would follow. Fenrir wanted Emma first and foremost, but he would never pass up the opportunity to have Remus, who he considered his lost pup.

Persephone brought up the point that Emma's symptoms were most likely due to her having a single dose of Wolfsbane. She had eavesdropped on one of Fenrir's conversations with Ellis and went to do her own research out of curiosity. There was a strong possibility that she might have caused a very mild form of aconite poisoning with the single dose. She would recover with the full moon passing, but it meant that everything was that much more difficult.

As far as Persephone knew, Ellis was unaware that Fenrir had gained access to the memories he had stored. By extension, that meant Jude didn't know either, which put Emma in an excellent position. The longer no one else knew, the better she would be, but Persephone wasn't sure how long that would last.

Whatever Fenrir was doing was entirely off course from what he said he would do. He had led Ellis and Jude into believing that he would play nice and continue on the planned path. Clearly, that was not the case, and Emma wasn't entirely out of the woods just yet. Fenrir lost a fair amount of trust in Persephone after the Hogsmeade incident. Still, he valued the relationship she shared with Emma. According to Fenrir, Persephone could still be of use for as long as she was still talking to Emma. Persephone admitted that it was hard for her to decipher which information was correct. Fenrir told her much different intel than her father and Jude. However, she expressed her doubts that she would be of any use with Fenrir knowing of the last letter. He wasn't likely to make the same mistake all over again.

Emma admitted she had her own doubts on Persephone's usefulness for Fenrir. The moment Fenrir knew that Emma had another letter from her, it wouldn't end well.

With a heavy sigh, Emma tucked Persephone's recent letter into her notebook. She got as comfortable as she could in her bed, trying to mull over her thoughts. An exhausted sigh escaped her lips as she laid her head on her pillow. She was in for a very long night, and she glanced out her window, worried Fenrir was still lurking. Emma didn't entirely put it past him to not change course again and attack her the moment he could.

Sleep was slowly overtaking her when she felt the charm on her bracelet grow warm. Remus had his bracelet after all. She touched the pendant to try and return his response, but when another one didn't return, she knew she still didn't have her magic back. She hoped that the morning would come sooner rather than later and the nightmare could be over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW explanation:** Fenrir Greyback is his own warning - this chapter contains a non-graphic depiction of a sexual assault/rape attempt. You get the lead up to what's happening, but no details are provided.
> 
> Fenrir will not be getting any better from this point on. At this point, if you see a "Fenrir Greyback is his own warning" in the series, understand that there is a potential that the scene could shift at any point in time. Up until this point, Fenrir has 100% been painted with a specific image in mind. Fenrir is not a nice man and will never be a nice man. Please keep that in mind. This is not the sweet, misunderstood version of Fenrir some authors write.
> 
> **come find me on:**   
>  [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/mymoonyandstars)   
>  [facebook](https://www.facebook.com/mymoonyandstars)   
>  [the moonlit stars discord](https://discord.gg/DtrKMhaTHR)
> 
> [spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/r6xi6203vwza01epk6askwk15?si=t4wwYBERRymTJvw09FJG3Q)  
> 


	14. Bittersweet Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if you want a musical track for this chapter, I have one. You know that scene in Prisoner of Azkaban with Remus and Harry on the bridge? WELL, while editing this chapter I discovered that they did a complete score for the movie that included that track. I can't find it on Apple Music or Spotify - it doesn't seem to exist outside of YouTube.
> 
> It's a short track, so you can either be ridiculous like me and loop it, or pick a spot you think fits. 10/10 recommend - but also totally gave me too many extra feels
> 
> [Remembering Mother - Harry Potter & Prisoner of Azkaban Recording Sessions](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uFktP62e1Cs)

Emma was startled out of her slumber with a sharp gasp by the slamming of her door opening. She sat up far faster than she should have, unsure of what she should be holding onto. Was it her head, which seemed to weigh more than usual and throbbed painfully? Or was it her aching body?

Her light was suddenly switched on, and she groaned, covering her eyes with her hands to try and shield her vision. When she felt her eyes had finally adjusted, she pulled her hands away, and a deep frown crossed her face. Of all the people in the world she didn’t want to see, Ellis Moon was very high on that list.

“Get up,” Ellis said sharply. “You’re going to a different room for the night on Ministry’s orders.”

Emma grumbled, trying to look at the clock on her dresser.

“It’s nearly ten,” Ellis said before Emma could get her eyes to focus on the clock. Emma flopped back onto her mattress and waved him off. She had no plans on going anywhere for the night.

“Bloody hell, what is wrong with you?” Ellis muttered. “I just told you it’s the Ministry’s orders that you get placed in a different room because of what you are. Pack your things while you’re at it.”

Emma propped herself up on her elbows to shoot Ellis a questioning look.

“Do you not know how to talk all of a sudden? Just do it,” Ellis said in annoyance. “I’ll be back in fifteen.”

Emma rolled her eyes, pulling herself out of bed as Ellis left. If she could find her voice, that would’ve been a point that she made a comment, but her throat was still too raw. She had no idea what she needed to pack her things for, but she did it anyway. It was something she probably would have done regardless, but she would have spent more time with it. She opened her drawers, shoved her clothes into her bag, and made her way back to the bed to retrieve everything hidden under her pillow.

Her collection of rocks sat on top of her dresser, and the coat Fenrir gave her was hung up behind her door. Emma stared at both items for a moment, trying to make a decision on what to do. With a grin, she knew exactly what she wanted to do to send a message.

She grabbed the box of rocks, leaned forward over her dresser, and tipped it upside down, dropping each stone underneath her window. Emma grabbed Fenrir’s coat and looked out her door to make sure no one would approach right away.

With silent glee, she pulled out her knife and stabbed the blade into every possible spot she could, tearing the fabric. She stabbed the knife into the seams to break the strings, a smile on her face. When she was sure she could tear it apart with her hands, she closed the knife and shoved it back into her pocket. She pulled the arms from the body of the coat and threw those out the window first. Emma made quick work of the rest of the coat tearing it apart and throwing it out to join the rest of the coat. Out of curiosity, Emma tried to conjure the blue flames and let out a quiet noise of disappointment when she still couldn’t make them. Setting Fenrir’s coat on fire would have been an excellent bonus.

She sat back down on her bed to wait for Ellis to come back, holding her bag on her lap as she waited. It made sense for her to be moved to another room, but she certainly didn’t want to move. As Emma tried to sort through her feelings over what had happened earlier, she wondered how the move came to be. She wasn’t entirely sure that it was a decision made by the Ministry as it seemed silly to make it so last minute. Remus had mentioned talking to someone about getting her moved for the night to stay safe from Fenrir. Perhaps this was part of that mission.

When Ellis returned, Emma found herself freezing slightly as she really looked at him and _remembered_. That was an odd sensation for her to have with such clarity that it surprised her. It was much different than when she remembered bits and pieces of things that never quite fit anywhere. This was the full awareness that a memory existed, and it fit somewhere in the timeline of her life. She hadn’t bothered trying to pull up any of her memories yet, too busy focused elsewhere, but looking at Ellis brought them up.

There were so many Saturdays spent at the park with Persephone, Ellis accompanying his daughter. Sage was absent from most of the memories, and Emma found that curious. Emma wondered what the explanation for that was, and she mused that Caspian was never there either. If she could remember that much, what else was she going to be able to remember? Did Ellis have any idea that she recognized him from her past?

“Are you going to just sit there and look stupid? _Get up_.”

Emma shot Ellis a look of aggravation and stood up, reluctantly following him out of the room. They went out of the staff rooms, down the hallway, and turned left to head into the children’s lounge. She followed him further still as they walked past the kitchens and towards where the basement stairs were. Were they going to keep her in the basement like some sort of dog? Another Auror was present, another man she was unfamiliar with, but she kept her gaze averted even as he followed them. She was far more curious to know where she was going.

She followed Ellis down the stairs into the basement, and fear started to settle into her stomach. Emma had never been in the basement before, but it was split into sections for storage and what looked like rooms for magic. There seemed to be a potions lab that Emma would have loved playing in and a space dedicated to dueling. If this was all dedicated to magic, what if this was a trap? What if Fenrir would be waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, and she was going to be trapped with him as he transformed? Her mind began to wander, and her thoughts continued on that track until they finally stopped in front of a doorway.

“This is where you’re staying for the night,” Ellis said, unlocking the door with his wand and opening it.

Emma looked past Ellis to try and peer into the room. He let out an aggravated huff and turned on the light. The room was barren – no bed, nothing comfortable for her to sit on, and absolutely no furniture. All there was to the room was the four walls, the floor, and the door she was sure would be beyond enchanted. Was this what they did to her father, as well? Was he getting locked into a similar setup?

“Get in, Nickels. Last I checked, there isn’t much time left until moonrise, and we don’t need a wild animal running loose.”

It took everything in Emma’s power not to roll her eyes. She wasn’t sure if Ellis believed that she was actually a werewolf or if he just wanted to make a dig at her status. Reluctantly, Emma stepped around Ellis, clutching her bag tightly and peering around the corner of the room. She was still worried that Fenrir would be lurking around the corner. Ellis, tired of waiting for Emma to move, shoved her hard into the room, and she stumbled, nearly falling. The door slammed shut behind her, she saw the glow of charms being set, and then the room plummeted into darkness.

The lights immediately going out sent Emma into a panic, and she tossed her bag on the floor to slam her fists hard on the door. She pressed her ear to the door and heard nothing – they had set a silencing charm. She couldn’t be locked in the dark like this. Why did the light go out? When no one opened the door for her frantic knocking, Emma tried to conjure the blue flames again, but her magic still hadn’t returned to her yet. How much longer would she be unable to use her magic? She couldn’t recall if she had ever been told how long the potion could suppress magical abilities. All she knew was that none of this could be happening.

Emma got down on her hands and knees to try and find her things. It was fortunate that the flap of her bag remained closed, and nothing escaped the inside. With a whimper, she pulled her bag towards her and huddled into a corner, gripping hard to her hair. This was just like what they used to do to her when she was younger, and she felt like she was being punished all over again. She tried to take deep breaths to keep herself from slipping into a panic attack in her current state. If she did, she didn’t think she would make it to the morning at all.

What would her father tell her to do? A wail left her lips when she realized what he would have her do. He would have her try to find five things to focus on, but she was in a pitch-black room with nothing to look at. She sucked in another deep breath, trying to quickly reframe her thinking, which was far easier when Remus was there to guide her. Remus would tell her to think about things differently, take things less literally. She could do this; she needed to be able to shift her thinking. If she couldn’t see, what else could she focus on? There was nothing to hear other than her shaky breathing. There was nothing to smell except for the peppermint of her body wash and the leather of her bag. There certainly wasn’t anything for her to taste. However, she did have touch to focus on.

Emma focused on the feel of the leather of her bag, memorizing the smooth grain underneath her fingers. _One._ She found her bracelet, running her fingers over the embossed pawprint charm. _Two._ Shaky hands moved to her jumper, and she buried her face in the fabric – this was her ultimate safety blanket. How many times had she gripped tightly to Remus’s jumpers over the years just to find comfort? It was too many times for her to count. _Three._ Emma opened her bag to find something else to touch, and she immediately found a book. She brushed her fingers over the pages. The feel of the paper was just as soothing to her as Remus’s jumpers, familiar and safe. _Four_. She was struggling to find a fifth item that could ground her. The floor was too smooth, too cold. The wall was too rough and scratchy from being unfinished beyond drywall. Her fifth thing came unexpectedly, and it was so needed.

Her panicked breath broke into a dry sob as her bracelet warmed up. She clutched tightly to it, tipping her head back to lean against the wall. Did her father know that she was struggling? She let go of her bracelet to comb her fingers through her hair and was surprised when she felt her bracelet grow warm again. It grew warm, then cold, and the action repeated three more times. Did that mean he was aware that she had touched the bracelet?

Curious, Emma returned the same pattern and held on for a fifth touch in hopes he understood she was questioning the four. When the four-touch pattern returned, Emma took in a deep, steadying breath. He knew she had touched her bracelet.

With her panic finally settling down, Emma tried to understand why the number four was so significant. It took her a few moments to run through her thoughts, trying to think of how their full moon conversations went. First, they would discuss how they were feeling, trying to get through pre-moon jitters. Even though Emma didn’t transform, she still got nervous, always afraid that she would. Next, they would move along to discussing something mundane – something they read, a conversation they heard. They would snuggle up together on the couch and try to find something to laugh at. By that point, the moon would nearly be high up in the sky, and they would talk about how long the moon cycle would last for the night.

Emma finally understood what he was trying to tell her. The summer months had shorter moon cycles. He was trying to let her know that the full moon would only last four hours.

She could handle that. Four hours was nothing, she reminded herself. She had spent longer at Quidditch practice before. Four hours and the full moon would be over. She could go back to her room and sleep and know that she wouldn’t be turned that night. A chilling thought crossed Emma’s mind, and she thought of the idea of Fenrir being hidden in the room with her. But then she remembered that werewolf biology made most cloaking spells completely useless because of their biology. With Fenrir’s bulk, it would have to be a powerful charm indeed, and knowing him, he would have been on her already. She was safe.

Emma settled herself into the corner of the room, trying to get her eyes to focus in the dark. This could be fine – it had to be fine. Curious, Emma tried to conjure her flames again, and she laughed when she had the smallest of sparks. It couldn’t be sustained, but it was enough. The suppression potion Fenrir slipped her was starting to wear off. That was good. But what could she do for the time she was locked in the room in the dark?

She laughed again as she forced herself to lie down on the cold floor. She could use her bag as a makeshift pillow and try to ride out what was sure to be a rocky night. If there was ever a time as good as any to go down memory lane, it was right then and there. She had a whole treasure trove of old memories she could suddenly sift through as if they were new again. If she was going to be stuck in the dark, she could pretend she was dreaming. In a way, it was almost like she was.

She wasn’t entirely sure where to start, and she tried to pull up memories of her mother first. It was bizarre to have such old memories be so fresh in her mind, but she wasn’t going to complain about that. She had a lot of ground to cover to understand who she actually was and where she came from.

Anything earlier than her being a year old seemed non-existent and fuzzy, but that made sense if she remembered anything from her primary school. Babies couldn’t see well at all, but they could have a recollection of voices and colors.

Her initial love of colors had to have come from her mother. Vague, brightly lit colors flit through her mind, though she couldn’t decipher the shape. The frequency of bright colors led Emma to feel that those colors were always her mother. As she spun through her memories, trying to figure out how to pull up what she wanted, she pulled up a series of colors, almost like watercolors being brushed on paper. Deep down, Emma knew who each person was just by the colors they wore. She easily associated soft, muted colors with Remus. He was creams and browns, navy blues, and greens. Sirius was an eclectic mix of purples, blacks, scarlet, and even the rare pops of jade and cerulean. Her grandfather was a mix of Margaret, Remus, and Sirius. A smile made its way to her face when she found that she had strong associations with their voices. She liked knowing what Margaret sounded like outside of the memories her father shared with her in the Pensieve.

Blackbird by the Beatles was apparently Emma’s lullaby of choice. Sometimes it was something Welsh that she didn’t know the translation to, but it made Emma happy. It had to have made her really happy because the songs were sung so frequently by everyone. Even Sirius would stumble through the words, with guidance from her mother or Remus, depending on who they were with. Sirius preferred to sing her a pretty French lullaby. That was something that she didn’t know about Sirius.

For curiosity’s sake, she moved along to the one thing she had plenty of pictures of and thought about Christmas. It was a jump, but she could at least figure out if she remembered things correctly.

She had no recollection of her first Christmas, she was only three months old, but she could remember her second one. Emma thought of the photo taken from her second Christmas, a gathering of everyone close to them. She could recall baby Harry with his shock of black hair, Neville so blond that he looked bald, and of course herself.

She was walking – and very quickly, happily running between legs, squealing in delight whenever Remus or Sirius would pick her up. Sirius would give her little boosts of energy with raspberries blown on her stomach and tickling her just to make her laugh. He would tickle her feet, the spot on her neck that still made her giggle, her sides, and even a spot behind her right knee. She had a feeling that Sirius loved when she laughed because he tried to keep her laughter going all night. A brilliant, beaming smile would cross his face, and he would look around to see who was watching, wanting to share the moment with someone else.

When Margaret felt that Emma was getting too energetic, she would pull her from Sirius and promptly hand her to Remus. Remus was more than happy to take on the task of calming her down. He would either sit down somewhere with her on his lap and rock her or carry her around to show her something she might like. Remus had picked up very quickly that Emma adored the bright, colorful Christmas lights. She preferred the strands of Muggle Christmas lights but was equally enamored by the small, actual fairy lights set in the tree. The love he had for her was so evident in the way he would look at her and how he carried her around like she was the most treasured thing in the world. His looks never would have made sense to her as a baby, but now that she was older, she knew.

It must have been one of the first times she had met Harry and Neville as all three sets of parents slowly met up. Emma squirmed so hard to get out of Sirius’s arms to look at both boys, very curious about them. She was going to love telling Harry that she had pet his head with Remus’s guidance and proclaimed him a very nice cat. She had then gone on to say the same thing to Neville but had insisted to his parents that he have a hair growth potion because he must be very cold. It was all said in very broken sentences, but she said it, and it was funny to her that it felt like she _just_ said the words the day before. When she was smaller, Emma didn’t understand the stunned silence of everyone in the room, but she understood their laughter. She had been quite proud of herself and laughed along with them.

Though she saw the memory from herself at that age, she took in far more than she thought. It bothered her that Remus had absolutely no idea what he was to her when she could see it so clearly in her mind. Margaret looked happy to see Remus and Sirius with Emma, proud even. It was also evident that Remus downplayed just how much time he spent with her, and she wondered why that was.

These were all moments that she should have remembered right from the start. She should have known how much love her family had for her, known all the little things they did just for her.

Emma should have known how she could convince anyone to dance with her just by bouncing up and down to whatever music was playing. It seemed like an unspoken rule that if she went up to someone and she danced, they had to dance, too. Having any recollection of Harry’s parents made her sad because it was the sort of thing Harry should know, not her. The Potters had learned very quickly to join in Emma’s dancing sessions. Emma wondered if Harry would like to know that.

James would join her and look over at Lily for reassurance as she would laugh. Sirius was the silliest dancer, happily bouncing from side to side with her, while Remus was more subdued. Remus was more likely to pick her up and hold her close, holding her hand out as if they were in a waltz. Margaret would lead her through happy twirls and would sometimes get on the floor to dip her just to make her giggle. Her grandfather was most likely sitting on the floor with her to help guide her through a dance.

Remus read to her so often it wasn’t surprising to her anymore that she had such a love of books. If there were words, he read them out to her. It didn’t matter if it was something as mundane as instructions on a box or an article in the Prophet – he read it to her. She would sit and just watch him, content to listen to his voice. When he was done reading to her, he would give her such an incredibly fond look. He would pull her close and start to walk his fingers up her arm, which would make her start to giggle. He would continue up to her neck and find the ticklish spot there to keep her laughing. Remus would continue walking his fingers up the side of her face to the top of her head and then run a finger down the bridge of her nose. With that all done, he would lift her up over his head, kiss the tip of her nose, and rub his nose against hers until she couldn’t stop giggling. She wondered if he remembered…

Sirius bought her the first broom she ever owned and taught her how to fly. The broom didn’t go higher than two feet off the ground, and though he was excited by it, he played the part of a very nervous dad. He loved the idea of her flying and wanting to play Quidditch, but the moment she took off, he panicked. The moment she got the hang of flying, she zoomed as far as she could, laughing the entire time as Sirius chased her. Eventually, he remembered that the broom was charmed with every child-safety feature possible, and he relented and let her go. Still, he kept a close eye on her. At one point, she had flown straight into a wall and terrified Sirius something terrible. He had run over to her as Padfoot to get to her faster, worried that she was terribly hurt, but she only bounced off the broom and onto the floor giggling the entire time. It was a wonder that Sirius didn’t go grey before Remus did. Emma wondered if that would explain why he had run off so quickly last Christmas – he didn’t want to be reminded.

Margaret colored with her. Often. She let Emma paint anything and everything with her hands. If Emma wanted to paint on the walls, she could. If she felt the need to paint the carpet, Margaret let her and would often get down on the floor and join her. Margaret would squish her hands into the paints with Emma and cover everything – their clothes, the walls, the floors, and even Emma’s face. It seemed that her messy ways came from Margaret as the woman didn’t seem to do anything without leaving a mess in her wake. The kitchen was always a mess, especially if Emma helped, but Margaret encouraged it. She had very few cares in the world, and she found it funny when Emma would be covered in whatever food was made. Margaret never cared – a wave of her wand, and everything would be clean again.

She should have known that Remus was quick to put down whatever he was doing just to cuddle with her. Emma would walk up to him with her arms outstretched, silently asking for him to pick her up. She should have known that Sirius always pretended that she tugged his hair too hard just to pretend to be sad and get a kiss on the cheek from her in apology. She should have known that Margaret told her every day that one day she would get to be with both of her dads when the war was over. Until then, Margaret was more than willing to take on the job to keep her safe. The more memories she could pull up, the more evident it was that the woman did whatever she could for her. Even though Margaret was giving her to Remus and Sirius, she had no intention to abandon her; their relationship just would have changed.

Emma managed a weak giggle that her declaration of calling Remus Moomoo was a very deliberate choice on Sirius’s part. It was close enough to Mama, just as Emma had suspected, but she didn’t know it was on purpose. If Sirius was Dada, it only made sense that Remus was Mama, or in her case – Moomoo for Moony. Margaret took the initiative to try and change Moomoo to Papa early on. Sirius used to eat up being called Dada, his eyes lighting up in pure joy each and every time she said it. It made her feel a little guilty that Remus had been given the title of Daddy instead of Papa. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed that she always struggled to call Remus Papa. It was only natural that both men had their titles switched.

Margaret, Sirius, and her grandfather made it very clear who her parents were and told her nearly every day. There was a photo of Remus and Sirius that they would show her and point to everyone to tell her who they were. The only person who didn’t know was Remus. They made it very clear to her that Remus was a werewolf, and sometimes he had to go away to keep her safe. That was the reason they gave her to explain why he didn’t know he was her father. It wasn’t the best explanation. Margaret apparently expressed concerns over it, but Sirius was insistent; she had to be kept safe.

Emma wondered if that was why she so readily accepted he was a werewolf – she already knew. Knowing what she did, she didn’t understand why her grandfather still kept the charade up of Remus not being her father. It was one thing to know that he knew the truth; it was another to know that he tried to make that information clear to her when she was younger. It didn’t make sense.

Unfortunately, the more memories Emma decided to pull up, the more memories Jude started to invade. Jude, noticeably, did not have a name from her other than silence. He didn’t seem to be around as often as she had thought, but when he was, he wasn’t kind. She could recall him screaming at Margaret, though about what, she wasn’t sure because she would cry. The loud noises and shouting scared her. He never hurt her when Margaret was around, but it was an entirely different story if she had to leave. Emma had learned quickly that crying got her into trouble.

Her crying one day had led to the first casting of the Cruciatus, which led to her only crying harder. The spell wasn’t sustained for very long, but the very thought of the incantation brought along sharp, fire-hot pain. She stopped crying. In her earlier days, he didn’t do anything obvious, but the older she got, the more evident it became. He would shake her violently, grab onto her roughly, not caring if he hurt her in the process. The only time he put up a front was in front of company, but he seemed to struggle with that. Jude would restrain himself, but everything about him was tense.

The hardest memory to visit was the one that involved Montgomery and realizing that Fenrir was telling the truth. Her screams of terror echoed in her mind, and she realized Fenrir was laughing because he couldn’t believe what had just happened. Fenrir was furious with Jude and at Montgomery, and she saw another snippet of the monster Fenrir could become. He was quick to scoop Emma up into his arms after throwing Montgomery off of her. She never would have expected Fenrir to hold her so protectively to his chest, trying to soothe her. It only made what he tried to do to her earlier hurt that much more.

She wondered if Fenrir knew Jude let her loose on purpose, insisting that she go try and find Remus. It wasn’t an accident like it had once sounded. Jude was hoping something would happen to her.

Not wanting to dwell on Montgomery, Emma decided to pull herself out of toddlerhood and into later, more recent days. She didn’t understand how Jude was leaving St. Mungo’s without people knowing, but sure enough, he was there. It always seemed so odd to her that huge chunks of time had been stolen from her, but she started to understand why.

Jude was unapologetic in his thoughts about her. He would look at her with such disgust that she was beginning to understand her attachment to Fenrir. The older she got, the more she understood what Fenrir told her about Jude and his acting skills. When she was a toddler, his accent was distinctly English, but in more recent years, she assumed from disuse, he slipped into his natural accent. She struggled to pinpoint whether or not it was Spanish or Italian, but she didn’t have many experiences with either language to compare. Why wasn’t that something Margaret wrote about in her diary?

With Jude came memories with Ellis, and by extension, Persephone. Her memories with Persephone were much easier to stomach because they were fun. Even though Persephone had lied to her for so long, Emma wondered if their friendship could somehow be repaired. Persephone was trying to help her when she didn’t have to. She didn’t think that Persephone would go through so much effort if she didn’t want to still be her friend.

Persephone truly had been her best friend for the entirety of her life, and that was a confusing thing for her to process. Persephone never seemed to act as though she had a motive with Emma when they were younger. They were more than happy to just be children, and they were exactly that – children. While their friendship had been born out of Fenrir’s need to have Emma “socialized” as if she were a dog, it seemed it had always been genuine. It wasn’t until they were both to start at Hogwarts that they had a shift in their relationship.

As she cycled through her memories with Persephone, she found Boris showing up more and more as well. She had been very close with the werewolf boy, though she didn’t see him nearly as much as Persephone. Sometimes other children would show up with Fenrir, but never as much as Boris. She wondered if it would be possible to become close with Boris again. Even though he was a little strange, he wasn’t terrible to talk to; he just needed guidance. All he knew was life in the pack and nothing different. It wasn’t his fault.

Emma had actually been around for Persephone’s first kiss, and she burst into a fit of giggles. Persephone’s first kiss had been with _Boris,_ and it wasn’t very good at all, just like Persephone had told her. Emma had watched on in pure horror, running away from them both with a scream of, “Boy germs!” and running right to Fenrir. Fenrir thought it was the funniest thing in the world.

It was weird to realize how much of a relationship she had shared with Fenrir at one point. Whatever shift in feelings Fenrir had for her seemed to shift when she was no longer in his care. It made the entirety of what transpired earlier hurt her more. If she had to have Fenrir in her life, she could have found peace in what they once had. It never would have been ideal, but she would have figured it out. What Fenrir wanted now was so much different, and it made her sick.

Emma ran her hands down her face as her exhaustion settled in. How much time had passed since she had entered the room? She tried to conjure up the flames again to try and look at her watch, but they were still weak, and she couldn’t sustain them long enough to work. With a sigh, she touched her bracelet, curious to know if Remus had transformed or not. She was mildly concerned when she felt a returning warmth, and Emma wondered if barely any time had passed since she was placed in the room. With a slight frown, Emma touched the paw print again. What if her father was touching the paw print with _his_ paw? That was a funny thought to think about.

She yawned, pulling herself into a tight ball on the floor. It was both comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. The cold tile brought her body temperature down, but it was solid and unyielding. When she was lost in her memories, she wasn’t focused on the shooting paints she felt. They had to be in the middle of the cycle somewhere, and she immediately burst into laughter. Remus absolutely had to be touching his charm with his paw, and the idea of it was sweet. She didn’t think it was possible for her to love the man any more than she did.

Deciding to dip back into her memories wasn’t the best course of action as Emma was suddenly presented with an unfiltered view into who she was growing up. She didn’t like it.

She had come to terms with the fact that she stole things often growing up. It was one of her worst traits, but she had confessed to it and knew it was wrong. Nothing was going to change the fact that she did it, but after multiple discussions with Dr. Wheeler, she accepted it. It wasn’t something she would ever do again, and she hated that Fenrir encouraged her to do it in the first place.

Emma didn’t like knowing that she had been a very mean child. She was happy, but she was mean, which was surprising when she only saw herself as shy. Her mean streak started because of Jocelyn and, of course, was encouraged by Fenrir. He wanted her mean and unwilling to take the injustices people dealt her. She was quick to fight physically, swift to cut someone down with her words, and quick to be nasty to other children her age. While she played the part of a perfect little student while in school, she hated obeying authority. It seemed so unlike her, but then she remembered her more recent moments where she was more than willing to throw a punch. Her short-tempered tendencies weren’t because of the wolfish side she possessed; it was always there. Fenrir had been determined to turn her into the perfect little werewolf.

But then there was the other side of her that she knew very well - the compassionate and shy side. As far as Emma had known, that’s all she felt she was. She loved helping others and absolutely adored animals. It didn’t matter to her how big or small a person or animal was; she loved them with everything she had. She was quiet, preferring to observe than to interact with others right away. If someone was hurt, she was the first to comfort them. There had been many times where Persephone had hurt herself while playing, and Emma was over to her in a heartbeat with a tight hug. She snorted when she realized that she always followed said hug with a kiss. That seemed more like how she knew herself.

There were still moments of time that didn’t seem to exist that left Emma bothered. So much seemed to fit back together, but things would get hazy, and she wasn’t sure why. How could she have so much but still have thick clouds over specific memories? It made no sense.

She was lost in her introspection when the door suddenly opened, and Emma blinked blearily into the light. A slim and shorter figure than she was used to, backlit by the light from the hallway, stood in the doorway. Was this a woman? Emma strained hard to get her eyes to focus, unsure of who she was looking at. It certainly wasn’t Ellis or the other man who had been with him.

“Oh, bloody hell, you’re not actually a werewolf, are you?”

The voice was very feminine, and Emma was surprised to hear it. The entire time she was dealing with Ministry workers in person outside of the children’s home staff, they were men. The only exception was Mrs. Bryce. Was this a woman that she could trust? The children’s home workers were terrible and prejudiced, and she worried this woman might be, too, but she sounded concerned. She didn’t speak in that patronizing tone that Emma had started to grow used to.

“Buggering fuck, did they leave you in the dark this entire time?”

Whoever this person was, Emma already liked them a lot. With a groan, Emma closed her eyes tightly at the glow of a wand, her eyes still unadjusted to the brightness. There was silence, and then the woman let out an aggravated shout.

“They left you with _nothing_? Wankers – the lot of them!”

The light dimmed considerably, and there was a shuffle of the woman coming closer. Emma slowly opened her eyes, hoping that her eyes could readjust faster.

“You all right?”

Emma realized it probably seemed strange to not be saying a word, but she still didn’t have it in herself to speak. She gave a half-hearted shrug, and the woman sighed.

“Your name’s Emma, yeah? I met your dad just before coming here, actually,” the woman said brightly. She had far too much energy for Emma to handle, but it was a welcome change from what she was used to. “I’m not over in the werewolf division since I’m an Auror, but they were short-staffed, so I did a quick look around. He heard me talking to the guard I was with and called me over when he heard I was coming here. He said that they were putting you in a special room for the night even though you don’t transform…I wasn’t expecting this.”

Emma looked at the woman curiously. Did that mean the full was over if she met her father before coming to the children’s home? It had to, but Emma needed to make sure. She pulled her watch into the light and breathed out a sigh of relief. It was four in the morning, and she had made it through the night. She didn’t have to worry about being turned by Fenrir at all.

The woman let out a sudden, “Oh,” which drew Emma’s attention back up to her. Her eyes were finally starting to adjust, and she took in the woman’s appearance. She was surprised to see that the woman didn’t look that much older than herself and looked cool. The woman had what looked like a bright, neon-colored blue hair cut in a mullet. Under her Auror robes looked to be ripped jeans with fishnet tights underneath. If Emma wasn’t mistaken, she wore a pair of Docs as well, and Emma smiled. She was _cool_.

Suddenly, a hand thrust in front of Emma’s face, and Emma stared at it for a moment before taking it. “I should probably introduce myself,” the woman said, a smile forming on her face. “Wotcher! My name is Tonks. I was only recently put on your case, so I hope you don’t mind me because I think we’ll be seeing each other a lot.”

Emma felt she was going to like Tonks a lot. She didn’t mind at all.

Tonks got Emma back upstairs and into her room. The moment Emma saw her bed, she collapsed into it, exhausted. She had changed into her pajamas before being moved for the night, and she was comfortable. It was one of her easier full moons, but that was only because she was so focused on other things. She hoped it was easy for her father, as well.

“Oi, before you go to bed, do you need anything from me?” Tonks asked, standing in Emma’s doorway.

Emma shook her head slowly, settling happily into her pillow and curling up on her side. Tonks bid Emma a goodnight, said she would be around until the daytime staff showed up for the day, and went on her way. Emma was never more excited to finally go to sleep.

If only she had realized that Fenrir seemed to have other plans for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super slow with putting together the soundtracks because I struggle so hard to pick the _perfect_ songs. There are so many that I like, and I thought I would do the soundtracks in chapter order, but I think it's just going to wind up being like a mix-tape deal. I swear I'm going to add more songs.
> 
> That being said, if you're curious, I do have theatrical themes picked for both Emma and Remus. Remus's was technically already built-in for him in PoA, but I'm keeping it.
> 
> Remus is obviously A Window to the Past from PoA. It was 100% written for him and I wish that he had more scenes in future movies so it could have been included. He shares the theme with Sirius in the movies, which is cool - they can share.
> 
> Emma's theme I see as Leta's Theme from Crimes of Grindelwald. It's a hauntingly sweet track in my opinion and I feel like it fits Emma really well.
> 
>   
> **come find me on:**  
> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/mymoonyandstars)  
> [facebook](https://www.facebook.com/mymoonyandstars)  
> [the moonlit stars discord](https://discord.gg/DtrKMhaTHR)
> 
> [spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/r6xi6203vwza01epk6askwk15?si=t4wwYBERRymTJvw09FJG3Q)  
> 


	15. "Dangerous" Dai Llewellyn Ward for Serious Bites

**TW:** Fenrir Greyback is his own warning

* * *

The moment she started to drift off, Emma was jolted back awake by a heavy weight on her body. She was suddenly trapped, and her heart began to race when she realized she couldn't move. In one swift movement, she had been turned so that her left arm was trapped under her body, and her right was held tight to her side. Before she could make a sound, a hand was clasped tight over her mouth, and her nose was assaulted with the scent of earth and the copper tang of blood. She couldn't turn her head, held entirely in place, but Emma knew if she turned her head, she would meet Fenrir's sharp eyes. No one else would smell so strongly of either.

She could tell that he was shirtless, his hairy chest pressed against her back. She tried to imagine that he wasn't completely nude, but Emma had her doubts. He was straddling her back, and his very bare leg holding her right arm against her body was concerning. Did that mean Fenrir come back to finish what he started?

"Shhh, it's just me," he rasped, his voice hoarse.

 _No shit_ , Emma thought to herself, trying to bring her breathing back to normal. There wasn't much Fenrir could do to her at that point that he hadn't already done.

"I was planning on leaving you alone for a few days, but a certain little songbird's sung a little too loudly. It seems that a certain someone didn't make sure a certain little bird returned home."

Emma immediately tensed up. She looked over at her window as if she expected Duke to be sitting on her windowsill. How did she forget to make the owl fly home? She thought that she had thought of everything, but she didn't.

"I bet you won't make that mistake again, will you?" Fenrir asked, his breath hot against Emma's ear. "Well, one of my associates came to me and gave me some fascinating information. It turns out that the moment the Aurors were switched out here, Ellis decided to make his way to St. Mungo's to squeal. _Judas_ is pissed, and now you need to be moved. I can't have you two meeting each other right now."

Fenrir pressed a kiss to Emma's cheek, and he chuckled at her noise of disgust. He leaned over her further so that she could finally meet her frustrated and confused gaze. "What's that look for, fy lleuad? Did you think I wouldn't think to have someone at the hospital keep me up to date on things? I told you that I don't trust the bastard, and with good reason." Fenrir pressed another kiss to Emma's cheek, and she pulled her gaze away from his with a growl. She was tired, but he was angering her, and she tried to channel that energy into getting the werewolf off of her. It only made him bear down on her harder.

"You're such a pretty little thing when you let Soleil play, did you know that? You're going to be a small wolf, but you are going to be powerful," Fenrir said with a sigh. He turned Emma's face, forcing her to look at him again. "Speaking of which…do you know the quickest one-way ticket to St. Mungo's?"

Emma immediately stopped struggling, going completely limp, and she was pretty sure that she had stopped breathing. Fenrir couldn't be serious. There was no possible way he could consider biting her right then, but his excited growl and the twist of his lips said otherwise.

"Oh, yes, fy lleuad bach, it turns out that I'll get the pleasure of finding out just how sweet you taste, after all," Fenrir said excitedly. "While it's a shame that I won't have the privilege of turning you yet, it's no matter. I've wondered if you taste as sweet as you smell, and a werewolf bite guarantees you'll be out of here and safe."

Safety from a bite made absolutely no sense to Emma, and she wasn't sure that Fenrir was telling her the truth. He had to be toying with her. It wouldn't be the first time he had made the threat, but when he moved his leg to free her right arm, she was concerned. He held tight to her wrist as he stretched her arm out, and Emma felt her panic starting to rise again. She tried to make a noise in the hopes of alerting Tonks, but Fenrir's grip over her mouth didn't allow for much noise.

"Save your voice; you're going to need it," Fenrir tutted at her as if she was a small child. "Now, how did I say that I was going to do this again? Do you recall, Rabbit? I hope you do because if you give me the wrong answer, you're going to pay for ruining my coat."

Emma had royally screwed up when she recognized the dark tone in Fenrir's voice. She looked at him with wide, round eyes, and his lips pulled back to bare his teeth, his smile with his sharp canines menacing.

"Did you think I was going to miss that one? You left all the evidence right outside your window for me to find," Fenrir growled, his eyes darkening. "I gave you a gift, and you didn't appreciate it. You're lucky that I don't do worse to you to make up for ruining something that I gave you."

The situation was growing worse and worse. Emma struggled hard against Fenrir, determined to get him off her, but he wasn't moving. He dropped his full weight back on her again, his grip tightening over her mouth. She whimpered pathetically when Fenrir twisted her arm back painfully. The positioning was awkward, and Emma worried her arm would break from the pressure.

Fenrir tutted in her ear. "I'm afraid that's the wrong answer, fy lleuad. I think the correct answer was that I would make you look exactly like your father," Fenrir said, pressing a kiss to Emma's temple and taking in her panicked expression with a delighted smile. "I suggest closing your eyes if you don't want to lose them. I'll be very disappointed if you don't howl loud enough to catch someone's attention here tonight."

It seemed incredibly inane for Fenrir to tell her to scream because it was impossible not to. She thought that he would have bitten her first, but his left hand covering her mouth came up and raked through her face first. It took her a moment to register when his teeth sunk into her arm because she was too focused on the heat radiating from her face. Everything felt like it was on fire, and she expected pain, but not like this, and she couldn't get Fenrir off of her. He had her held in such a way that it was like trying to hit a brick wall.

She was suddenly flipped onto her back, and he had both of her wrists locked in one of his hands. When Fenrir demanded she open her eyes to look at him, she did. Her blood dripping from Fenrir's mouth made her sick, and he licked his lips hungrily. His pupils were blown out with the thrill of what he had just done, and Emma had never been more disgusted. Rage filled her, and she didn't care to stop her snarl. If Fenrir didn't have her wrists locked together, she would have attacked him, tearing into whatever she could.

"Perfect," he purred, bringing his bloodied hand up to her face to brush his fingers over the tender scratches. "You might just be a much better creation than your father. You look just like him, but so much more beautiful. Even better, you taste far sweeter than I thought you would. Now that I've had a taste, it's going to be very difficult for me to resist tearing your throat out and feasting on every part of you. Although, fortunately, I have other plans for you. Now you're just missing one more thing…"

There was a shouting noise outside her room, and Emma's eyes shot over to the door. Except Fenrir wasn't done with her, and he took advantage of her momentary distraction. He leaned back down with a surprising speed and sunk his teeth hard into her left shoulder. It was the exact spot he wanted to bite her in the first place, and her scream came out so much like a howl that she hated herself for it.

The door opened just seconds too late. Fenrir had bitten her for a second time and had slipped out her window as fast as he had come in.

There was too much noise for Emma to handle, and she forced herself back onto her side to curl herself up and cry. She covered her ears to block out the loud noises she heard and closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to look at herself or at anyone. Emma realized that trying to cover her ears was stupid when the noises were coming from her. She couldn't block that out.

Emma flinched violently as something touched her cheek, automatically anticipating pain. Her screaming died out to sobs. Someone pulled her hands away from her ears and held her hands tightly.

"Emma, open your eyes; it's me. Focus on me, kid."

 _Kid._ Emma knew who this was. She forced her eyes open to meet familiar, sorrowful brown eyes. If she wasn't in so much pain, she would have launched herself at Elara, grateful to have someone with her who wouldn't ever hurt her. Emma looked past Elara to take in just how much commotion there was, and she curled in on herself. There were too many people in her room, too much noise, too much everything.

"I am so sorry, sweetheart," Elara said shakily. Elara's hands were shaking just as much as Emma's entire body was. She swore under her breath and called Tonks over to tell her something that Emma didn't quite catch. Tonks stared at Elara for a moment, her eyes widening before her face fell. What had Elara said? The two women gave each other nods, and Elara turned back to Emma, squeezing her hands gently.

"We have to move you to the hospital," Elara said gently. "We need to get you cleaned up, baby. The sooner, the better."

Emma whined at the idea of having to move, and Elara pulled a hand free to run it through Emma's hair.

"I know it hurts, baby. I promise that I will make you the best potion cocktail you have ever had. You know I make sure that you're taken care of," Elara said in a tone so soothing that it started to calm Emma's nerves. She worried her lip between her teeth for a moment. "I asked Tonks to try and spring Dad from the Ministry early," she added, tears pooling in her eyes when Emma started to sob harder. "I know you're scared, I know you don't want him to see you like this, Emma, but he needs to know. You don't want him to find out about this from the Prophet. I promise it will all be fine."

Emma wasn't too sure anymore.

☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾

Elara truly always managed to put together the best combination of potions, and Emma was blissfully settled in her hospital bed. She was certain that Elara may have overdone it on the Draught of Peace, but Emma didn't mind in the least. It was never her favorite potion to take as it made her queasy, but it kept her from having a complete meltdown.

Ellis's strange request for her to pack her things up had been helpful. It was one less thing that had to be done before leaving Saint Nicholas's. She still didn't understand the exact reason why he had her do such a thing, and she wondered if it had something to do with Jude. Her mind kept running through everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, but none of the pieces fit together.

The entire act of getting to St. Mungo's had been a process, but Emma had mostly blocked it out. All she had been able to focus on was the pain and not wanting to see her father, even though she wanted him with her. There had been a moment of severe panic when Elara very gently suggested pulling her memories to make copies of them. Emma still couldn't find it in herself to talk, almost as if she had completely forgotten how, and she was not proud of how she broke down. That had been the first dose of Draught of Peace. It hadn't been the last.

At some point, Emma imagined that someone managed to convince her to let them make copies of her memories. Elara quickly figured out that Emma wasn't going to talk anytime soon, and she explained that it would be easier to understand what happened. A report of what happened was going to have to be made, and if she couldn't give testimony, then her memories were needed. She wasn't entirely sure if they had actually done it because she had been fed potion cocktail after potion cocktail. The amount of adrenaline coursing through Emma's system had sped her metabolism up, and she was burning through the effects of the potions too quickly. Everything was a blur.

Getting Emma cleaned up had been another process, very halting and slow. Cleaning her face was painful, and Emma hated that she could feel her skin trying to stitch itself back together. It was itchy and made her feel like bugs were crawling over her skin. Elara had finally given up on caring about dosages and had given Emma the strongest pain relief potion they had. It helped immensely. Elara had needed a moment when she started to clean the bites. She nearly wept from relief when she realized the bites weren't while Fenrir was transformed. It wasn't clear how much time had passed between Emma being found and when the call came, and she had expected the worst. She was angry that Fenrir had bitten her at all, but at least Emma wasn't a full werewolf.

Elara's relief was overshadowed by her very evident panic as she helped Emma change into a pair of hospital-issued pajamas. She was in the middle of apologizing for the clothing being so scratchy but suddenly stopped talking. Emma, so concerned about the scratches on her face, forgot how scratched up her body was. It only led to starting the previous cycle anew as more memories were taken and copied, and more potions were given.

Emma was never going to be able to stand the smell of the silver and Dittany mixture or Murtlap again. She couldn't wait to take a shower to wash herself off and smell normal.

With everything finally out of the way, Elara got Emma settled into a bed with a decent buffer from other patients. Emma's closest neighbor was three beds away to her right and no one across from her. It was a welcome surprise that the bed lifted so that she could recline. Even better, Elara decided to surround Emma with multiple pillows. Emma immediately curled up on her right side, snuggling into the very soft pillows.

"Just little perks," Elara said, trying to make Emma feel better. Elara explained, very quietly, that she had been getting ready for bed when the emergency message came through. She purposely kept herself on call after the full moons for instances just like Emma's. The moment she heard where she needed to be, Elara didn't bother getting her Healer robes. She changed out of her pajamas, grabbed her wand, and left.

As grateful as Emma was, she felt guilty that Elara was losing her day off because of her. Emma took in the dark circles around Elara's eyes and her pale skin. She didn't even have any time to really recover from her transformation, but Elara had dropped everything just for her. Emma's expression must have given her thoughts away as Elara pressed a kiss to her forehead. Elara told her that there was only one place she needed to be, and that was with her. Emma knew that Elara loved her; she just didn't understand how much. "Your father isn't the only one who loves you, you know," Elara said, stroking Emma's hair. "Bet you didn't ever expect that when we first met, did you?"

If Emma wasn't on a ridiculous number of potions, she probably would have started crying. Again. Emma never expected it at all.

Elara stayed at her side, just talking about random nonsense to keep her distracted. No one had bothered to say whether or not Remus was being allowed out of the Ministry's mandated program early or not, and Emma's anxiety lingered. Out of fear he would just show up, Emma slowly pulled her blanket up to cover her face, only daring to keep her left eye out in the open.

Each time the doors to the ward would swing open, Emma would hide further. It was unfortunate that the only way Emma could comfortably lay was facing the doorway. She was tempted to try and turn onto her other side, but her shoulder hurt too much. Elara took notice and stood up from the bedside chair to get more potions, but Remus had suddenly arrived.

Emma immediately hid in her blanket and pillow cocoon. She couldn't look at her father yet. She wanted Remus there; she truly did, but not like this, not when she was one of Fenrir's victims, and it was her fault. Remus stood frozen where he was, glancing first at Emma, who was hiding and then staring hard at Elara with wide eyes. Tonks, who had gone to retrieve him, stood at his side looking sympathetic, placing a hand on his arm. Rather than focusing on her father, Emma focused on Tonks, trying to figure out how her blue hair was suddenly dark purple, short, and spiky. How was that possible? Did she imagine how Tonks looked earlier?

Elara sighed, looking over at Emma and making her way over to Remus. Emma watched them both warily, sniffling as she tried to hold back her tears. Her father looked terrible, shell-shocked, and pale. This was his worst nightmare, too. It was the very thing he had spent years trying to prevent from happening to her, and Emma worried that he would be mad at her. She had been so careless…

Emma could only catch snippets of what Elara was saying. It was something along the lines of not knowing exactly what happened, that she refused to talk to anyone, and that Elara hadn't viewed the memories yet. Tonks said something to Remus, and he gave a slight nod. He looked over at Emma for a moment, shoving his hands in his pockets, one of his nervous habits, and followed Tonks back out of the ward. Elara returned to Emma with another small dose of Draught of Peace with a promise they would be back, and it would be fine.

When Remus and Elara finally returned, without Tonks, Remus looked impossibly paler than before. Elara looked just as terrible, looking angry and ill at the same time. It took Emma nearly no time at all to realize that they had disappeared to see what she wasn't able to tell them. She didn't want to know how everything looked through a Pensieve. Based off of their faces, it wasn't very good.

It was a wonder that Remus could manage to keep himself composed when he finally made his way to her bed. He sat down slowly, not looking at her just yet, slipping off his blazer to give himself a distraction. Remus folded his blazer over his arms, staring down at his feet and taking a deep breath. His gaze lifted painfully slow as he turned himself towards her.

"Hi, baby girl," Remus said softly, his voice thick with emotion and still hoarse. It was rougher than usual after a transformation, and Emma finally noticed just how red his eyes were. His face shifted through several emotions at once before eventually settling into the saddest smile Emma had ever seen. "Is it all right if I hold your hand?"

Emma thought about it for a moment and very carefully slid her hand out from her cocoon. The bite on her right arm brushing against the fabric of her top pulled a whimper from her lips, and a thinly veiled look of concern crossed Remus's face. He laced his fingers with hers, his thumb rubbing hers gently. The relief Emma felt was near immediate. This was safe. It was calm, familiar, and gentle. Still, Emma couldn't bear the idea of showing her face.

"Are you going to hide from me the entire time?" Remus asked lightly, tilting his head with a soft smile on his face. Emma could see he was trying to keep himself together, forcing a smile on his face, but the look in his eyes shifted quickly. He couldn't seem to settle on one emotion, shifting from anger to sadness to worry. Remus sighed when Emma gave a slight nod, and he bent his head down to kiss her hand.

That was how they stayed for a while until Emma pulled her hand out of Remus's, raising it shakily towards his face. Emma never felt the need to touch Remus's scars on his face, or any of his scars at all. There was a scar on his right thumb that she touched often, but that was the only one that ever truly caught her attention. She knew that her father was self-conscious of his scars, but he rarely brought that up. Would she be as self-conscious of hers? She looked at him, silently asking if it was all right, and he leaned in closer to her. He understood what she wanted to do.

Emma started with the scar that cut through his eyebrow first. It had grown soft with age, soft to the touch. Curious, Emma gingerly traced her scratches with her other hand underneath the blanket. Where Remus's cut through his left brow, soft and smooth, and went down to his right cheek, hers cut through her right brow, rough and jagged, and down to her left cheek. She let out an almost exasperated sigh, pulling her blanket up further still. Emma dared someone to tell her that she wasn't her father's daughter now.

As she continued tracing the long scar across her father's face, she did the same with hers, needing to know how similar they were. She brushed her finger over the short scar that cut diagonally across the bridge of his nose, following the broken line to his cheek. Emma followed the scar along his cheek and then moved to the other cheek to follow that line next. The second scar was much shorter, running parallel to the long scar. It cut through his cheek and the one corner of his lips. That was where they differed, Emma found. She would only have to worry about her bottom lip scarring, but it didn't make the situation that much better.

An errant huff of laughter escaped her lips when she realized that even the accidental scratch from her father had a very similar counterpart on his face. It was further down than hers and at a different angle, but it existed. A mirror image, indeed.

Remus turned his face to kiss her fingertips when Emma didn't move her hand away. She met Remus's gaze for a moment and pulled her hand away and back into her blanket cocoon.

Maybe it would be all right, Emma decided. But she didn't even know what she looked like. She wasn't ready to look just yet. If the burning across her face was any indication, looking at her father would be like looking at herself. But how deep were her wounds? How jagged? Would they ever be as soft as Remus's? Curious, she touched the healed scar on her cheek, her brow furrowing slightly. Maybe they would be.

"You haven't looked at yourself yet, have you?" Remus asked gently. Emma glanced up at Remus, gave a small shake of her head, and cast her gaze elsewhere. She didn't think that she had to look at herself to know how she would appear.

"Move over a bit," Remus said after a long pause. "I'm getting in there with you." A whine left Emma's lips, clutching tightly to the blanket to keep it where it was, and Remus frowned. "I promise that I'm not going to look. You need a cuddle…and quite honestly, so do I."

There was no way that Emma could ever deny that, and she shifted over carefully to grant Remus space. When Remus got himself situated, propped back against the pillows, he held his arms open for Emma. She was quick to launch herself into his arms, not caring how much pain it caused her. Emma didn't even care that the blanket had slipped off her face. She needed to be held and feel safe.

"Oh, you poor thing, you are shaking like a leaf," Remus said, careful with how he held her. He settled for a hand on her arm, and his other cupping her head to his chest. "Hey, you're safe now. I've got you," he murmured into her hair, clearing his throat as his voice broke when Emma started to cry. "Daddy's got you. You're safe. No one is going to hurt you."

Remus ran his fingers through Emma's hair, talking about whatever nonsense he could think of as she cried herself out. Elara brought over another Draught of Peace to try and settle Emma's nerves, but Remus waved her off. He knew that prolonging the moment would only make Emma feel worse. The sooner she confronted her feelings, the better it would be, and he didn't want her being on so many different potions.

"You are so strong," Remus whispered to Emma as he pressed a kiss to her hair when her tears had finally slowed. "So incredibly strong. And so very brave," he said, kissing her forehead. Remus crooked a finger under Emma's chin but didn't dare lift her face.

Emma's face screwed up with the effort to keep her tears from starting again, but she slowly looked up to meet Remus's gaze. She was met with nothing but loving and fond warmth in his eyes. His eyes didn't stray from hers, didn't bother following the new scratches across her face. All he cared about was making sure that she understood that she was loved. "And you, my dear, are as radiant as the sun."

She managed a weak smile at that. Emma knew he was trying to make her feel better, being careful to find other features about her that were more important than her appearance. Though her father took the time to try and remind her that she was beautiful, he spent more time reminding her of everything else she was. It was enough to make the exterior Emma was trying to build back up crack again, and the moment tears started to fall, Remus was quick to catch them.

"I love you so much, Emma," Remus said gently. "Do you know that?"

She did know that, and she knew it with every fiber of her being. She had memories – old memories – that could back up that claim. Emma let out a breath, wondering if Remus would remember what he always used to do for her. She stretched her arm out so that she could walk her fingers up his arm, and Remus reached for her hand to stop her before she could go farther. He looked at her as if he didn't quite believe what she had just done.

"Do you…do you remember?" Remus asked, searching Emma's eyes. She nodded in response, and Remus looked torn. "When did this happen? Yesterday?" Emma nodded again, and Remus brought her head back down to his chest, squeezing her a little tighter.

"We didn't think it was actually possible…that it was even remotely true," Remus breathed out. He gently tipped Emma's face back up to look at him. "You really remember? You remember me? You remember Papa?"

Emma nodded, another weak smile crossing her face as she let out a soft breath of laughter. She reached up to pull his face towards hers so that she could rub her nose on his, and tears filled Remus's eyes. Emma didn't want to start crying again, so she decided to remind him of something funny. She lifted a finger to her forehead to trace the shape of Harry's scar, and Remus looked at her curiously.

"Harry?" he asked inquisitively, looking at her with even more curiosity when Emma nodded.

Emma then proceeded to pat Remus's head. When he didn't understand, she thought about it for a moment and then gently traced lines out from her nose to her cheeks to signify whiskers.

"Oh…Oh!" Remus started to laugh, the sound watery but joyful. Emma grinned when she realized that Remus understood her. "You called Harry and Neville cats," he said, smiling fondly when Emma gave a shy nod. "That's one of my favorite memories of you, one of many, actually. You said it with such sweet innocence that it left us all stunned. We loved to bring it up after the fact and ask how the cats were doing…"

Emma snuggled into Remus's side and whimpered as she yawned. She had realized that the Draught of Peace had worn off, but she hoped the pain relief would have lasted longer. The fire underneath her skin was starting to flare up again, and Elara was quick to bring over a potion. She had been talking to one of the other patients in the ward to give Emma and Remus their space but clearly paid close attention.

"Here," Elara said, pressing the bottle into Emma's hand. "It's the higher dosage again, but I don't think you'll go through it as fast now."

With a sigh, Emma downed the potion and sagged against Remus as she got herself comfortable again, the fire subsiding once more. She felt much better after having her cry and knowing that she had people who loved her close by. Emma wasn't sure that she would be able to leave her father's side with how scared of everything she was, but she didn't want to think about that yet. She nestled her face into the soft fabric of his shirt, wincing slightly at the odd pull of her skin. It was much harder to ignore the bug crawling feeling of her skin, and she wondered just how long that would last.

Emma was fully aware that things were going to change in her life again; they already had. She saw firsthand the type of person Fenrir truly was, and perhaps that was what hurt her most of all. Emma knew that Fenrir was a monster, but for two weeks, she had believed that there was a possibility she could have been different. It hurt her to realize that she wasn't, but she should have known.

There might be a strange and hidden side of Fenrir that loved her, but his love for her wasn't truly love. The only thing she knew for sure about Fenrir was that if he said he was going to do something, he was going to do it. Nothing would change his mind from an idea entirely; he just changed his plans. The only good thing was Fenrir couldn't hurt her any more than he already had. He had broken the trust she had in him, shattering whatever lingering feelings she had. Emma supposed he had done her a huge favor in that regard.

She looked up at her father sleepily, enjoying the feel of his fingers massaging her scalp in the spots that soothed her most. A chill swept through her at the reminder that Fenrir knew those spots because of her carelessness. She hoped that whatever memories they had actually pulled didn't include that bit of information. Emma didn't even know what she had managed to give up, but she didn't think anyone else knew. Remus clearly picked up on her sudden unease, his expression curious, but Emma just smiled up at him, and he returned that smile. His gaze softened into the look that he reserved only for her, adoring and fond. This was love.

Remus expected nothing of her. Ever. He loved her unconditionally and always had. She wished that she had understood that better before, but it didn't matter. They couldn't turn back time, and Emma wasn't sure she would want to anymore. Would she like to have done so many things differently? Of course, but who didn't? She nearly laughed at the sudden realization those months of therapy actually did something for her.

This could be okay, Emma decided. Not perfect in the least, but okay. She had to look at the positives, and as few as they were, they were there.

She was alive. Fenrir could have easily killed her multiple times over the past two weeks but didn't. She still wouldn't transform, despite what the bites would suggest. They were ugly and told a different story, but she knew the truth - she still wasn't a werewolf. She bore the scars given to her by someone with a sick motive. But she was alive.

Emma had people that loved her and would love her no matter what. Remus was her number one supporter and gave her so much love that she didn't know what to do with it sometimes except to return it. Elara took care of her, playing the role of the cool aunt she never got to have, and encouraged her in other ways. She had Sirius and even in his briefest moments still gave her so much love, even when she was mean to him. He was still learning, and she was a tough act to follow. It took Remus over two years to figure her out. She had to give Sirius time.

"Would you like me to tell you a story?" Remus asked, humming softly when Emma shook her head. "No? Do you want me to tell you about how terribly boring my night was without you? I swore I would never tell you this, but I missed your head scratches." Emma shook her head again, burying her face slightly into his chest so he couldn't see her start to smile. Remus chuckled softly, happy just to see that Emma could find reasons to smile. "Not even that?" Remus was quiet for a moment before asking, "Do you want me to just sit here with you?"

Emma considered it for a moment, snuggling closer. She then tapped the spot on his chest where she knew his tattoo for her sat. He was doing an excellent job of understanding what she wanted without actually saying it. She hoped this would be another one of those moments.

"Oh, Merlin, do you want me to _sing_ to you? You know my singing is awful, especially right now," he chuckled. Emma gave a slight shrug, and he smiled at her. "All right, I suppose I can sing for you."

Emma closed her eyes, feeling infinitely calmer listening to Remus singing softly to her, glad to know he knew exactly which song she wanted. She thought that "You Are My Sunshine" was truly a terrible song outside of the chorus, but she was never happy with just that and made Remus sing the entire thing. It didn't matter that the song was sad. As far as she was concerned, the chorus was for her, and that was what she chose to focus on. A pang of guilt flooded her system as she realized singing to her was probably pure torture for him. He must have picked up on her thoughts as he switched to humming the song softly, pressing kisses into her hair. Emma felt like she actually enjoyed the humming better, the sound much softer and more soothing to her ears.

Between the warmth radiating off his body, his familiar scent, and the softness of his humming, Emma felt herself wanting to give in to her exhaustion. She was tired and worn out, and a yawn tried to escape, but she held it back.

"Rest, my love," Remus said. "I'll be right here when you wake up. I promise."

Emma searched Remus's face, worried that he was telling her what she wanted to hear, and he was going to disappear. She had been so worried about him showing up, but now she couldn't stand the idea of him leaving. If he left, she wasn't sure how she would feel.

"I promise," Remus repeated, peppering her face with soft kisses and taking extra care with her healing skin. He smiled at Emma's grumpy little huff, tucking her hair behind her ear, knowing that her reaction was all for show. "Oh, how I have missed you pretending that you don't enjoy this."

A sleepy smile crossed Emma's face, and she readjusted herself. Her eyes fluttered close as her father began to hum a different song - Blackbird. The comfort she felt from the song made all the difference in the world.

Fenrir was right, Emma mused as she finally started to fall asleep. She would have to think twice about who she trusted.

Remus continued humming softly even when Emma had finally fallen asleep. He couldn't convince himself to stop because it kept him from fixating on looking at the harsh red scratches across Emma's face. Remus kept his cheek pressed to the top of her head, rocking Emma gently, not wanting to disturb the relative peace she finally had.

"She's finally resting?" Elara asked as she made her way back to the bed. She gently reached out to brush back a loose piece of Emma's hair. "Poor thing…"

"Out like a light," Remus said, trying to suppress a yawn. "I'm afraid I might be, as well."

"It was a hard night for you, too, Remus. Seven months of spending the moons together and not having your baby with you is tough," Elara said.

"She's had a much tougher time than I. Elara, you saw –"

"I know, Remus. There's no doubt that she had a difficult time, but she's strong. It's going to take time all over again, but she'll pull through. Your being here has improved her mood so much already," Elara sighed. "I've got good news for you at least. Tonks said that approval came through for you to be here as long as she's here. I'm going to keep her here as long as possible, so you're free to camp out. I think Tonks said she would try and push for an emergency order to get Emma home for a few days."

"I'm so glad that I still have to get approval to be with my daughter when she was just attacked," Remus muttered. "Complete bollocks – all of it. If she was home with me where she belongs in the first place, none of this ever would have happened." Remus blew out a puff of air. "Did Tonks tell you why she was placed on the case? I know she told me, but I don't remember what she said."

"Dumbledore said it was a conflict of interest to have Ellis," Elara said. "Even if things didn't go the way they did, it was a good move. There need to be more women on the committee, especially if they see you two like this. I just wish it didn't get to this point."

"I'm so glad that Emma had to become an example. She has suffered enough at the hands of grown men that have had no business hurting her."

"We can't change that, Remus – we have discussed this a million and one times," Elara hissed, gesturing to Emma, who was beginning to stir. "Get yourself together, Lupin – if you thought Emma needed you before, she needs you even more now. You understand what she's going through. You are the only person in the world that will understand her on a very personal level. She needs your strength. As strong as she is, she's going to need those reassurances. You need to be the man she needs you to be for her right now. You can completely lose your shit later, but not right now."

Remus stared icily at Elara for a long moment before letting out a deep breath. He rubbed his forehead with his free hand with a groan. "You're right," he admitted, looking back down at Emma. He kissed the spot between her brows in apology when he noticed her brows pulling together with distress. "I'm sorry, baby," he whispered to her. "Daddy loves you and is very angry because he worries about you…"

Elara gave an approving nod and held out a potion bottle. "Good," she said, "now drink this."

"Why?" Remus asked slowly, taking the potion bottle from Elara. "A calming draught? Because I want to go running out of here right now to go attack Greyback?"

"Just drink it, Remus. There are some things you need to know, and I am not letting you wake Emma up."

Remus shook his head and downed the potion, casting Elara an annoyed look.

"Feeling better?" Elara asked, watching Remus closely as he nodded. "Good. We've got a problem. You recall what Greyback told her when we viewed her memories? He wasn't lying to her. There's no doubt he was doing it because he wanted to, but he knew attacking her would get her out."

"What are you talking about?"

"Jude's not here anymore, Remus," Elara said. "He's gone."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	16. A Father's Lament

The idea of going completely mental had crossed Remus's mind so many times in the past twenty-four hours. His anxiety had started when there was no returning warmth of his bracelet from Emma the day before, but he assumed she was sleeping. The lack of the Wolfsbane Potion took its toll on her, and he imagined that all she wanted to do was rest. Her frantic writing in the middle of the night had scared him, and he grew even more worried at the understanding of Fenrir's plans. He couldn't let them happen.

As soon as he set foot in the Ministry and made his way to the holding facility, he made sure to tell someone that Emma needed accommodations. He had hoped that they would bring her to the Ministry, but that would have been too lucky.

Remus couldn't complain too much about the arrangement that he had to go through. He didn't particularly enjoy being locked in a cell like a criminal again, but it could be worse. He had taken the Wolfsbane Potion all week, and he would do whatever it took as long as it meant he could eventually take Emma home.

His thoughts were stuck on Emma, worried that something would go wrong despite all of their precautions. Remus tried to read his book, lounging on his makeshift bed and listening to the other werewolves in the facility. There were at least a dozen others, nowhere near as many werewolves that existed. He listened closely as they came in. He couldn't help but feel as though he was missing something important and kept hoping someone would say something that would give him information. Unfortunately, the conversations were mundane. None of the werewolves present were from Greyback's pack; that wasn't surprising.

He was bothered that Emma kept so much from him, but he understood that she was scared. As much as Emma wanted to believe she could handle things without help, she was very much a fourteen-year-old girl, which worried Remus most. He trusted her and her instincts, they had gotten her far, but he knew not to trust Greyback. After nearly two years of living with Greyback, Remus knew how the werewolf could be. He had an agenda, but Remus couldn't figure out exactly what it was other than trying to make Emma his.

Elara was equally as unsure even though she spent more time with Greyback. She had always sat somewhere in the middle of the pack, not having the same privileges as Remus. She approached the situation with the mindset that he hadn't hurt Emma yet, but that meant nothing if his plans held true.

Remus wasn't given any information on Emma's whereabouts before his transformation took hold. He was relieved that Emma finally responded to his silent reminders he was thinking about her. Still, it was weak, and that was abnormal. Remus could only hope that she understood the message he was trying to send her – only four hours, and then the night would be over.

The fact Remus knew nothing about Emma's whereabouts left him moody. It made Moony sit closer to the surface than he wanted even with the potion, but he forced himself to try and relax. Emma had to be okay. It didn't stop him from pressing his nose to his bracelet that had fallen off with his shift. He kept his nose pressed there for a long while before he gave up and pressed his paw to the bracelet. That was the reason he had chosen a paw print charm in the first place, after all.

When everything was over, and Remus was a man again, he listened closely for the Ministry official meant to check in on everyone. His still ringing ears caught snippets of the woman's conversation that entered, and he realized that she was talking about the children's home.

"Ellis was pulled from the case," said the voice. Remus listened closer as he dressed, grateful for the information he had been looking for. "Yeah, said it was conflict of interest or whatever. They pulled me off Black's case for now, and they're moving Ellis. I'll be heading over to Saint Nicholas's to check on the girl after this is done."

Remus listened hard as their steps came closer, hoping for more information. None came, but he finally had confirmation that Emma had been moved. That was all he could have hoped for.

He looked up as the steps came closer, and a figure was in front of his cell. Remus couldn't believe his eyes as he stared at the woman in front of him. She was older than he remembered, but her scent was familiar.

"Nymphadora?" he asked, clearing his throat to try and rid his voice of its hoarseness. "Nymphadora Tonks?"

"Oh, shitting hell, it's not Nymphadora. It's _Tonks_ ," the woman said, her blue hair shifting to a brilliant shade of red in annoyance. She peered into the cell, her head tilting curiously. "Do I know you?"

"You do," Remus said with a bark of laughter. "Remus Lupin. It's been…well, it's been over a decade since I've seen you. You were…I think seven the last time I saw you?"

Tonks stared at Remus, trying to figure out who he was, and her eyes grew wide. "Oh, shit," Tonks said when she realized. "I remember you now. You were with my cousin, right?"

Remus chuckled nervously, not sure of how she felt. If Tonks was on Sirius's case, he didn't think there were favorable feelings. "I was," he said quietly. "You're going to Saint Nicholas's when you're done here?"

"Yeah, why?" Tonks asked.

"That's my daughter. I have a feeling that she hasn't had a good night, and I just need to know that she's all right."

Tonks studied Remus for a moment and then nodded. Remus could tell that she was thinking of all the Prophet's published articles, trying to discern whether or not he was lying to her. She was guarded, and he didn't blame her. Remus didn't exactly have the best track record according to the Ministry and his relationship to Sirius. "How old is she?" Tonks asked.

"She's fourteen and a fighter, but I can't imagine that things have been easy for her the past month," Remus said. "I just miss her, and we haven't spent a full moon apart in months. I just need to know that she's safe."

"Why wasn't she brought here for the night? At the very least, they could have put you opposite each other for the night."

"I'm not sure," Remus sighed, making sure his eyes filled with tears. He could play the game just as well as anyone else if it meant finding out that Emma was safe. No one needed to know that he had spent most of the past two weeks with her, especially after nearly getting caught. "I think it has to do with our case. Unfortunately, the legislation hasn't been kind even though she's very much mine. They don't want to let us be together, even though we're the same."

Tonks continued to stare, and Remus could see her wall starting to come down. "I'll see how she is, and the moment I can get back here, I'll let you know," she said gently. "When do you get out of here?"

"My stay started at nine, so I'll be here for a while."

"What's her name?"

"It's Emma," Remus said, starting to feel a little better. He had gotten through to Tonks like he had hoped. "You know, your mum might even have pictures of the two of you from when you were both younger."

That pulled a thoughtful expression from Tonks. "Really?" she asked in surprise. "I'll have to ask mum, then…" she turned to glare at the guard she was with when he pointed out she was taking too long. "Bloody hell," she muttered, turning back to Remus with a look suggesting that she was tired of the guard she was with. "I'll let you know how she is as soon as I can. I can't imagine it's been easy for you, either."

"You have no idea," Remus whispered when Tonks left.

The very moment Tonks had returned to the Ministry, Remus knew that something was very wrong. The energy in the facility had shifted, and the other werewolves were stirring in curiosity. Tonks hadn't been gone long at all, and her energy was all wrong. It was too frantic, too chaotic, but it was the pervasive copper tang of blood that had set Remus off. He didn't even need her explanation to know that it was Emma's.

"She's been bitten" were the only words Remus could focus on, and it sent him into a rage. It was very unlike him to lose composure the way he did, but he was angry. The very thing he tried to keep Emma safe from had happened when it shouldn't have.

"You _need to calm down_ ," Tonks said sharply, shooting looks at whoever was with her. "The Healer – Elara, I think she said her name was - said that I cannot leave here without you, but I can't take you to the hospital like this!"

"My daughter was attacked _by Greyback_ because he's obsessed with her!" he roared, his hands ripping through his hair as he stalked through his cell like a caged lion. "How the fuck am I supposed to be calm? Contrary to popular belief, that little girl is _not_ a werewolf, and now she very well might be! There's no research in how much time after a transformation we're still contagious!"

"I _know_ that she's not a werewolf!" Tonks shouted back. "The poor thing was just huddled up in the room she was in, as human as can be!"

Remus needed to be with Emma, needed to hold her close and do what he could. Remus couldn't even begin to imagine how terrified she was. He was sure Elara was doing what she could, but he knew Emma. He struggled hard to calm down; every part of him focused on needing to leave to be with his little girl. It took the words of an older female werewolf a few cells down to finally bring Remus down to an acceptable level to be released early.

"You said your name is Remus? Remus Lupin?" called a voice, pulling Remus out of his anger-filled rant.

"Yes," he called, stunned out of his thoughts.

"Great. My name's Anna. Now pull yourself the fuck together," Anna shouted back, leaving Remus taken aback. "What's your baby's name again? It's Emma?"

"Y-yes," Remus replied, suddenly feeling like he was going through the five stages of grief in 10 minutes.

"Tell me about her," Anna called out.

It wasn't what Remus wanted to do surrounded by other werewolves, but he could talk about Emma for hours. He knew that he needed to calm down, and talking about Emma was the easiest way to do it. It felt like he had talked about Emma for hours when he finally calmed down enough. He had to sit down on the floor just to keep himself going, his voice cracking. When he couldn't handle talking about Emma anymore, he stopped, needing to breathe to keep himself from crying.

Anna was silent for a long while, and Remus thought perhaps she had fallen asleep. "I've read about you in the Prophet, and my heart broke for you when I saw what they did. They took my little girl away from me, too," Anna finally said. "I think almost all of us here have had our children taken away. A few of us have talked about you two. Some of our children have come back to us when they're of age, most of them don't. I think, over time, we've learned to accept it because that's just how our world is, but you shouldn't have to. Her being half-werewolf is more than enough grounds for her to be home with you; she's not entirely human anymore. Don't let these fuckers win."

There was a sense of urgency when they finally made it to St. Mungo's. He wasn't fond of having Tonks with him when he wanted to just be with Emma, but he had to be escorted. Remus wasn't expecting to completely freeze when he set foot in the ward, his eyes scanning immediately for Emma. He wasn't expecting her to be hiding, and he stared at Elara, desperately needing an explanation.

Elara looked at Emma for a moment before standing up from the chair at her bedside to meet him. "Hi, Remus," Elara said gently, reaching out to put a hand on his arm. "She's…she's as fine as she's going to be right now."

"Is she –?"

"Not a werewolf – Greyback was human. Her infection rate is slightly elevated, but that could be because I checked after the full," Elara said. "I'll recheck things in a few days, but it hasn't changed enough that we need to worry. The problem right now is she refuses to talk to anyone."

"She won't talk? What do you mean? What did he do to her?"

"I can give you some more details when we're out of here, but she's in shock. We managed to get her to share the memories of what happened so we can view it in a Pensieve. At this point, I know just as much as you do. She'll respond to people if they ask her questions, but she's exclusively non-verbal."

Remus nodded, glancing up at Emma. "Elara, why does she look drugged?"

"Maybe because she is," Elara cringed, squeezing Remus's arm, "just a little bit."

"What do you mean she is?" Remus hissed, his eyes widening.

"I may have had to go a little heavy-handed on the potions. She's not calming down enough for me to give her regular doses of anything. She's burning through them quickly – all of them," Elara explained. "I'm more concerned with keeping her pain relief going. It's…it's more than just the bites."

Remus searched Elara's eyes, looking for answers. "What do you mean it's more than just bites?"

"I'll just say that there's going to be absolutely no doubt that she's yours…"

"How about we go head up to the Pensieve room," Tonks suggested lightly. "We need another witness present to pull together a statement for the reports."

"From what I've gathered, it's going to be better if you're the one to do it, Remus," Elara said. "I'll be there in a few minutes. I want to give Emma another small dose of calming draught to hold her over until we get back."

Remus did not like the sound of that, but he begrudgingly left with Tonks. He didn't like the looks of the people in the room who had viewed the memories before they did to start on their respective reports. His stomach twisted anxiously when one of the Aurors said to view the memories over top of the Pensieve and not go into the memories. When Elara finally arrived, and they started to view the memories, he quickly understood the recommendation. He could barely stomach through the first. Listening to Emma's screams was going to haunt him for a very long time, if not for the rest of his life.

Remus was at a complete loss when they finally made it back down to the ward, shaky and pale. He wasn't even entirely sure how they made it back; he was too nauseated to think clearly.

Tonks, disgusted by what happened, mentioned she would start the petition process to get an emergency hearing to bring Emma home. It would only be a temporary move, but she saw enough to feel that there was a good chance it could be approved despite the legislation. Remus didn't get his hopes up, but he agreed to start the process. He would do anything to get her out of the children's home, even temporarily.

He sat down next to Emma's bed, trying to steel himself. There was only so much he would be able to do for her, and he hated himself for it. Her wounds were just as mental as they were physical. Rather than figuring out what to do, he let Emma guide him through what she wanted. It was no longer about what he wanted; it was about what Emma needed.

When he realized that Emma wanted to touch his scars, he let her. It was one of the small things he could do for her, knowing that she wanted to understand. He remembered running his hands over his face when he was smaller, frustrated by the scratches on his face. Remus just hoped that she would be less self-conscious of her scars than he was.

Eventually, Remus couldn't take the separation anymore, and he got into the bed with Emma. Whatever hesitation she had over him being there vanished, and she launched herself into his arms. He fully expected Emma to break down the way she did, especially since she barely cried around him the past few weeks. She held herself together until she couldn't anymore, and that was the end of it. Emma had finally surpassed her breaking point, and he knew a good, long cry would help her; she needed it. With Emma back in his arms, Remus wasn't sure he was going to be able to ever let her go.

When Emma finally looked up at him, he had to work hard to keep his alarm off of his face. Elara wasn't kidding when she said that there would be no doubt about who she belonged to just on looks alone. It was already shocking to look at her and see himself, but it was going to be even more jarring. He just hoped that he could convince her that she was still beautiful, especially after she was just starting to appreciate how she looked.

Remus was glad that he could pull a small smile out of her as sleepy as it was. He was surprised when her eyes suddenly lit up, and she walked her fingers up his arm. It was something he did very frequently with her when she was a baby, and he was afraid to believe she actually had any recollection of it. It seemed too good to be true. With the smallest huff of a laugh, Emma pulled his face to hers just so she could rub her nose on his, and he knew - _she remembered_.

Remus was torn. On the one hand, one huge mystery was solved, but there was an even bigger problem on the other. Greyback following through to give Emma back a huge part of her life meant she was in even more danger. He would be even more determined to get Emma now, and Remus wasn't sure how to do that if she wasn't home.

However, he set those thoughts aside at the smile on Emma's face. She had been scared to have her memories, but clearly, whatever she remembered made her happy. It only served to remind Remus of how strong Emma was. Her recovery was going to be a process, it would mean going back to her constant ebbs and flows, but she managed to find a reason to smile.

He couldn't let himself think of Greyback when Emma needed him present. She wanted him to be happy with her, just to be distracted for a little while. Remus could find it in himself to celebrate the small victory, and he knew exactly how to do that.

A smile found its way to Remus's lips as he kissed Emma's face, careful to avoid her scratches, and she made grumpy little noises as if she didn't enjoy it. Emma relished in his attention, drinking up every bit of love he would give her after being deprived for so long, and a pleased little smile crossed her face with each kiss he placed. Remus felt much better knowing that she understood just how loved she really was. When she finally fell asleep, Remus was relieved to see it was with a smile on her face. She felt safe, and that would be enough for the time being.

The nightmare was over for the time being, or so Remus thought. They weren't strangers to working through challenging moments together. He didn't expect Elara to drop an entirely separate issue on him.

Jude suddenly leaving St. Mungo's was not a possibility Remus expected. Jude's sudden "miracle" of getting well was dangerous, and Remus regretted ever not believing Emma. The fact he was let out so quickly, able to walk out of the hospital as if nothing was amiss, was even worse.

"What do you mean they said he signed the paperwork and left before Emma even got here?" Remus hissed at Elara. "He's been here for twelve years, and they just let him leave? There's something wrong with that."

"You think I don't bloody know that Remus?" Elara hissed back. "I don't know what you want me to say!"

"What made you even think to look?"

"The fact that Greyback said he didn't want Jude and Emma to meet," Elara said, crossing her arms. "I just want to know who his associate is because they're obviously not another werewolf." Elara looked at Remus curiously when he shot her a skeptical look. "Really, Remus? Don't be starting this shit right now. You know damn well that I would never do anything to hurt Emma."

Remus huffed out a breath, holding Emma a little closer. "I'm sorry," Remus muttered. "I just feel like it's like the damn war all over again. This was the same shit that led to Sirius and I not talking."

"Well, don't you dare think of trying to pull that shit with me. You know that I'm scared too, Remus. You are not the only person who loves her."

"Well, you never should have fallen in love with her in the first place! That was never supposed to happen!"

"How can you not love her, Remus? You have the sweetest and most caring girl in the world. She's very hard not to love."

Remus fell silent as he looked down at Emma, kissing the top of her head. "I know," he said quietly. "Fuck. Elara, I don't even know what the next move is supposed to be."

"It's the same move it's always been. You get her home."

"And with Jude being out, you're aware how much difficult it's going to be? If he decides he wants her, they're going to give her right back to him."

"Remus, there's no other option. She has to go home with you. Just remember, Jude already made a mistake if he had a plan to try and get her."

"And what's that?"

"He's not the one sitting in bed with her right now," Elara said pointedly. "I can tell you that you two are winning people over in this room. The people in this ward know your story, and right now, they don't see two werewolves. They see a father that made sure to be here when his daughter was attacked. We can't lose hope just yet, no matter what the papers say. You'll have your girl back one way or another."

Elara and Remus talked for a little while longer about what to do until she insisted her take a sleeping draught. Remus wanted to stay up just in case Emma woke up, but that fear was unnecessary. When he woke up hours later, she hadn't moved from where she was and was still curled up against his side, head tucked under his chin. He was sorely tempted to get up just to stretch his legs, but he liked watching Emma sleep, still needing the reassurance that she was breathing. It wouldn't hurt him to get some more rest. He could worry about everything else later on.

☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾

Emma startled out of her sleep violently, her eyes snapping open with the underlying feeling that something was wrong. Her dreams had been weird, mixing everything that happened and things that she wasn't sure were real or not. It was the vision of Jude standing over her bed that had pulled her out of her sleep, and Emma was so sure he was _right_ there. She jumped when Remus touched her arm, and her wide-eyed gaze turned to him.

"Hey," he said quietly, blinking sleepily at her. "What is it, baby?"

That was a hard question for her to answer, and Emma took another frantic look around. She had almost forgotten that she was in the hospital. Emma took in the dimmed lights and the darkened sky outside the window with a frown. She was surprised that Remus had actually stayed with her, taking up the spot next to her.

Remus studied her for a moment and opened his arms for her. Emma shifted herself close to bury her face in his shoulder. Her heart was racing from nerves, and Remus ran his fingers through her hair, making soft, soothing noises to try and calm her down. She didn't want to feel like she did all over again.

When Emma finally pulled away, she met Remus's eyes. He looked just as exhausted as she felt.

"Hi, sweetheart," Remus whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear. "How are you feeling?"

Emma's face twisted slightly at that question, and she pressed her face back into his shoulder with a quiet groan. She wasn't even sure how she felt. Emma suddenly leaned back again to search for his watch and squinted hard at the time. How long had she slept? Her eyes widened, and she looked at him in alarm.

"You needed it, baby girl," he said, trying to keep himself from smiling at Emma's scandalized expression. "Sweetheart, you needed to sleep. It's all right."

She had slept for twenty hours straight. Emma felt it was an unreasonable amount of time for her to sleep. Emma couldn't stay in St. Mungo's – not now. She needed to go back out into the world, and she was determined to do just that. With a huff, Emma started to sit up and immediately regretted it. Not only did it make her lightheaded, but she had completely forgotten why she was in the hospital in the first place. She could have done without the sharp pains.

"Whoa, slow down there," Remus said, sitting up quickly, placing a hand on hers. "You need to take it easy."

The last thing Emma wanted to do was take it easy, and she shot her father a look that said exactly that.

"Here," Remus said, reaching over to the side table and handing Emma a glass of water. "I imagine that you're thirsty. Do not try to drink it all at one time," Remus added quickly.

The moment he mentioned it, Emma realized that her mouth was dry. She went to drink it and then stopped herself, passing it back to Remus. Emma couldn't help but feel like Jude had been there, and she didn't trust it.

"Is there something wrong with it?" Remus asked. Emma gave a slight shrug in response, and Remus looked at the glass for a moment before setting it down. "Are you hungry?" he asked her, and Emma nodded fervently. "All right, let's head up to the tearoom and see what we can get you. I'm sure you want to stretch your legs."

Emma felt silly walking around in a dressing gown and slippers, but she didn't entirely mind. Her muscles were tight, and while she appreciated being out of bed, she was too energetic and too exhausted at the same time.

The moment they made it to the tearoom, Emma settled herself on the bench window seat so she could look out at the sleepy London morning. The sun was just starting to crest the horizon, lighting up the already overcast day. The sidewalks were still empty, but the streets had cars driving by at an increasing frequency. It seemed weird that life could go on like normal outside the hospital when things definitely were not. She started to catch her reflection in the window and quickly pulled her gaze away to look elsewhere. She still wasn't ready to see what she looked like.

Remus sat down next to her and handed her a cup of tea. "Careful, love, it's hot," he reminded her gently. "I tried to cool it off a little for you, but I was afraid of overdoing it – nerves, you know. Didn't want to make it too cold for you."

She gave Remus an appreciative grin over the top of her mug as she took a tentative sip. Her tea had just the right amount of warmth and was made perfect, like always. The honey he added to her tea was soothing, and she was grateful for the addition.

Sitting with Remus reminded her how much she enjoyed quiet mornings with her father when everything was quiet and still. Quiet moments like these meant that they didn't have to worry. Emma set her mug down and pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her head on her knees to continue watching the world outside. She needed the brief moment of peace amongst the chaos just to breathe.

"Hey," Remus said after a while. Emma turned her head to look up to see Remus holding a piece of parchment and a quill. "I asked for them to lend me these while we were waiting for our food to be ready. How are you really feeling?" he asked as he handed her the parchment and quill. "I know you try to put on a strong front..."

Emma considered it for a moment, stretching her legs in front of her, giving Remus a cheeky grin when she dropped her feet in his lap. She placed the parchment down on her lap, twisting the quill in her hand before writing, ' _I'm fine._ '

"Are you sure?" Remus asked gently, tilting his head to see what she wrote.

' _I'm fine now_ ,' she wrote with a pointed look at her father. ' _But I'm scared._ '

"Well, that's perfectly understandable. A lot happened to you in a short amount of time."

Emma shook her head, scrawling out quickly, ' _I'm scared of Jude._ '

Remus frowned. "What do you mean?"

' _He's not here, is he?_ '

Emma stared hard at her father, waiting for his response. Reluctantly, Remus shook his head. "No…he had a very convenient recovery and left early in the morning," he said. "Did you know he was going to leave?"

Emma's brow furrowed slightly, and her eyes were glued to the parchment. ' _I hoped he wouldn't. Everything Fenrir has told me has come true, and that scares me. I was hoping he would have lied. I think everything would be easier for me if he did. And there's so much I still need to tell you…_ ' Emma's face twisted slightly, her eyes becoming glassy. ' _I'm sorry._ '

"Sorry for what? Emma, none of this is your fault. If I were you at your age, I wouldn't have handled myself with half the grace that you have," Remus said with a mirthless laugh. "You make it seem so effortless, and I have been nothing but proud of you. When you're ready to talk, you will, but right now, you need to rest."

' _It's important information, though, and I was careless. If I had paid more attention, then this wouldn't have happened. All of this was my fault. I forgot to take the papers you wrote for Papa out of my bag, and Fenrir took them. I let him give me the potions, and I didn't even know what they were. I have my memories back, but at what cost? I was stupid, and I trusted Fenrir, and I knew not to._ '

Remus sighed, squeezing Emma's ankle. "Emma, I know it seems like you made a mistake somewhere, but I can assure you that you didn't. This is what he does. If he…if he didn't get the information inadvertently from me, he would have gotten it elsewhere. You did everything you were supposed to."

' _It doesn't feel like it_.'

"Do you mind if I'm blunt with you for a moment?" Remus asked, watching as Emma looked at him in surprise for a moment and then nodding. "It's not going to feel like you did the right thing, especially when it comes to Greyback. He's very manipulative, and he makes people trust him. I went through it, Elara went through it…we just hoped you wouldn't have to, too."

' _But how would it be your fault? There wasn't much more you could have done._ '

"But I could have tried harder to figure something out for you. You shouldn't have had such a hard week, and if I had just done more –"

Emma reached out to grab Remus's hand, squeezing it tightly to make him stop talking. She sighed, scooting herself along the bench so she could climb into Remus's lap and put her arms around his neck. He slowly put his arms around her, kissing her cheek.

"I just worry about losing you," he said softly.

Emma leaned back from Remus, her lips pressing into a thin line as she stared into his eyes. Another sigh escaped her lips, and she cupped his face with her hands to pull it down so she could press her forehead to his. She hoped that he understood that it was her way of saying that he wouldn't.

Remus broke the news over breakfast that Arthur Weasley had stopped into the ward at some point while she was sleeping. Emma's face turned bright red at the idea that someone else had seen her – sleeping, no less. Being headline news in the Daily Prophet again was not something Emma wanted to be. However, a werewolf attack on a slow news day gave her prime real estate. George had apparently been a complete mess since he read the article. It only made Emma feel even worse that she never wrote back to him.

Even though Remus insisted it would be okay for her to say no to having visitors, Emma felt that she needed to take them. She would have to start seeing people eventually, and with her grandfather visiting that evening, there was no point in putting it off. It was never going to get easier, and she just had to accept the change. However, Emma wasn't expecting just how many Weasleys were going to arrive.

Suddenly there were Weasleys in the ward - a lot of them. Even the other occupants of the ward were curious to see so many redheads. It was a bit overwhelming seeing them all together.

She looked up at Remus, who appeared to be just as surprised by the Weasley brood. He had taught all of the children present, of course, but even it was a lot for him. Remus shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Let me take care of this," Remus whispered to Emma as he pulled himself out of their cuddle.

Emma's whine was pathetic, even though her father was still right there. Remus turned back to her with a loving smile. "I'm not going far - you'll still see me, sweetheart. I just want to explain the situation, so you're not overwhelmed with questions," he said, reaching out to brush the backs of his fingers against the unharmed part of her cheek. "They're going to have them, and I know you're not ready to talk yet."

Emma watched Remus carefully as he greeted the group of Weasleys, but she didn't bother paying attention to what he was saying. She was too busy trying to figure out if she should hide or not, and avoiding everyone's curious looks. Emma only looked up again when she heard footsteps, and she let out a relieved breath when she realized only Fred and George were coming over.

"Hi," George said, sounding breathless and nervous. The three all stared at each other uncomfortably, trying to find their footing. How were they supposed to all react? "I, uhm…Professor Lu- your dad explained that you're not talking right now. That's fine. I'm just glad that you're…you're all right."

"We thought you might need some cheering up," said Fred brightly. "And I think we have just the thing for you." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small book, and handed it to George.

"Dad took us to a Muggle charity shop before we came here. We decided to see what we could find for you, and we found this," George said. " _1001 Perfect Jokes to Make Anyone Laugh_."

Emma had her doubts, but it was worth a shot. She gestured towards the book, curious to see what jokes could be found in the book. Fred and George's faces lit up as they looked at each other, and they opened the book, arguing over which joke to pick.

"Oh, this one is perfect," Fred said, stabbing the book with his finger. "Tell her this one!"

George looked at Fred with a beaming grin and turned to Emma, clearing his throat. "Did you hear about the circus fire?" George asked, grinning at Emma's confused look and head shake. "It was in tents."

Emma stared blankly at George for a moment before a slow smile crossed her face. George's smile grew impossibly wider at seeing Emma's smile. He flipped through the pages with such vigor that Fred had to snatch the book out of his brother's hand, worried he would tear the pages.

"Here, how about another," Fred said, flipping through a few pages. "Oh, I like this one. What do you think, George?" George read the joke that Fred was pointing at and nodded. "Wicked. Now, Emma, what are the biggest enemies of caterpillars?"

Emma looked between Fred and George, trying to search their faces as if that would give her some sort of clue to the answer. She gave a small shrug, and Fred started to laugh before giving her the answer, "Dogerpillers!" Emma had to cover her mouth to try and stifle her snort. It was such a _bad_ joke, and she should have known the answer to that one.

Fred and George suddenly had a renewed vigor in finding _the perfect_ joke to tell. They went back to arguing with each other, deciding whether or not a joke would be good or not. Eventually, they settled on a new one, and George looked up at Emma, clearing his throat. "How many tickles does it take to get an octopus to laugh?" George asked.

A soft sigh escaped Emma's lips. She knew it would be even worse than the last joke, but she mentally prepared herself for it. She shook her head, unsure of what George would say.

"Ten tickles!" George said brightly.

That did it. That was the joke that broke Emma, and she burst out into laughter at just how much worse that joke was. Her laughter turned slightly pained as she forced herself to try and relax her face, but it only made her laugh harder. The joke was so bad that she was going to commit it to memory. She loved it.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry," George said quickly at Emma's pained expression, but she only shook her head. She reached out for George's hand and gave it a squeeze to show she was okay.

Emma let out a gasp of surprise and turned her head as she felt a hand stroke her hair. She took in the relieved tears in Remus's eyes and switched to holding his hand with a smile to show she was all right. He gave a slight nod, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

"Is it all right if I leave you for a little bit?" Remus asked her. He looked over his shoulder to look at the rest of the Weasley children and their parents and then over at Fred and George. "I think you'll be in very capable hands. But if you want me to stay, then I'll stay."

Emma's first reaction was to panic at the idea of Remus leaving, but he hadn't left her side. She didn't need him to stay, and as much as she desperately wanted him to stay, he looked exhausted. The hospital beds weren't comfortable, and she didn't think that he had a real moment of rest yet. She pulled her hand from his and lifted it to rub the stubble on his face with a sad smile.

"I know, it's scratchy," Remus said, rubbing his hand over his other cheek. A cheeky grin crossed Emma's face, and she pressed her hand to Remus's forehead, pushing him away. Fred and George let out gasps of surprise and started to laugh.

"Oh, is that you giving me permission to leave?" Remus asked, pulling Emma's hand away from his head to smile at her. She gave a small but unsure nod, and Remus sighed. "I promise I'll be back. Just an hour or two, and I'll come back. Just want to take a shower and see what I can bring from home for you. Do you want Boris and Bee?"

Emma's face lit up, and she nodded. She grabbed onto the sleeve of his jumper, silently asking if he would bring another one back for her.

"Of course," Remus said, looking at her bag sitting on the chair next to the bed. "Do you want me to replace the one you've had? Then you can have _two_ of my jumpers – nice clean ones, and maybe, just maybe, I'll bring a third. Pretty sure you can never have enough of my clothes."

Her father was very correct in that assessment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	17. A Silver Lining

Emma tried to keep her panic to a minimum the moment Remus left the ward. Thankfully he took both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley with him, and she wasn't too gutted about Percy leaving. Ron and Ginny slowly approached her bed, and they all looked awkwardly at each other. It was going to be a lot harder to deal with without her father than she thought.

Needing something to do, Emma gestured vaguely to her bed, propping herself up at the head of the bed. She pat both sides of her and then gestured to the front of the bed, desperately hoping they understood that she wanted them to sit. It felt silly for them all to be standing, and the man a few beds down kept giving them funny looks.

George understood first and sat on the spot to Emma's left. Fred hesitated for a moment before going to Emma's other side, sitting to her right. Ron climbed onto the bed near her feet, and Ginny took the chair, not wanting to add another person to the bed.

"Well, this is weird," Ron finally said, making Emma snort and nod in agreement.

Emma poked Fred's side and pointed to the parchment and quill that sat on the bedside table. She flashed him an appreciative grin and scrawled out a very quick, ' _You all can ask questions if you want_. _I don't mind._ ' Emma let Fred and George read the parchment first before turning it to show Ron and Ginny.

"Does it hurt?" George asked, grimacing slightly as he looked down at Emma's arm. "All of it?"

Emma huffed out a laugh and nodded as she picked up the quill. ' _I have to take something for the pain every two hours. I take the highest dose they can give me because I burn it off too quickly._ '

"Do you have to take them so frequently because you're half-werewolf?" Fred asked. He passed a quick look with his siblings. "You are still only half, right?"

Emma placed the parchment down in the middle of the bed so that everyone could read what she was writing. ' _Yes, but Greyback planned to turn me._ '

"It really was Greyback, then?" George asked, his eyes wide. "The Prophet just said it was a werewolf attack but didn't say by who."

"Was it scary?" Ginny asked. "I can't even imagine."

' _It wasn't entirely unexpected_ ,' Emma wrote with a shrug. She rubbed hard at her eyes. ' _I don't know how to explain myself without it seeming weird._ '

"What do you mean?" Ron asked curiously.

Emma was spared from answering that question by Elara walking into the ward. She breathed out a sigh of relief and sagged back into her pillows. Elara could help her figure out how to get through having company. Elara gave Emma a sympathetic look as she started her rounds; she would get to Emma last.

"This ward is miserable," Ron said, taking a look around. Emma had to agree.

The ward held 16 beds and clearly wasn't given any recent updates compared to the rest of the hospital. The walls were wood-paneled, and nearly all of the light came from the strange bubble lights in the middle of the ceiling. There was a portrait of a wizard named Urquhart Rackharrow that kept staring at the patients but never speaking. Emma looked longingly over at the window at the end of the war. She was so close to it, and yet so far.

' _This ward is absolute bollocks. Feeding Hagrid's Flobberworms was more interesting than this room_ ,' Emma wrote, making the four Weasleys laugh.

"It's…charming," George offered, eying the portrait on the wall. "Does he always stare like that?"

' _Yes._ '

"Very er…fascinating, he is," Fred said.

"Bit creepy, yeah?" Ginny said, scrunching up her nose.

They all looked up as Elara finally approached, a small smile on her face. "Hey, kiddo," Elara said to Emma as she stopped next to Ginny. "How are you doing today? Ran into Dad before he left, and he said you had a bit of a rough morning."

Emma rolled her eyes, unconsciously leaning against George as she wrote out her message to Elara. She shoved the parchment out to Elara to read, ' _He let me sleep for twenty hours. That's ridiculous._ '

Elara looked at the parchment and then up at Emma and George, an eyebrow arching in amusement. Emma looked at Elara curiously, looked at George, and turned back to Elara, her face flushing.

"Well, you wouldn't have slept that long if you didn't need it," Elara said pointedly, making Emma roll her eyes because Remus said the exact same thing. Elara bit back a laugh and looked at the Weasleys. "And who exactly are you sharing your bed with?"

"I'm Ginny," Ginny said first with a laugh. "Currently the only one not on the bed."

"Ron."

"I'm Fred – the better-looking twin."

"Ah," Elara said before George could say anything, her eyes glittering. "So that leaves George as the one Emma is currently leaning on, yeah? Hate to break it to you, Fred, but I think that means Emma thinks your brother is the better-looking twin."

Emma covered her face in embarrassment, and George let out a nervous laugh. "Er, yeah, I'm George. Heard about me, eh?"

"Oh, you have no idea," Elara said brightly. "I'm Healer Douglas, one of the three attending Healers in the ward, but you lot can call me Elle."

Ginny straightened up suddenly in her chair. "Oh, do you need us to move?" she asked, looking at Elara.

"If you lot don't mind," Elara said. "Just need fifteen minutes with Emma, and then you can come back. I think your parents are chomping at the bit to get back in here to meet my lovely little patient. Go distract them for a bit longer and come back. If you want, you can bother the Welcome Witch for some games. I'm sure Emma's bored out of her mind here."

Emma was more than bored. The moment the Weasley's left the ward, Emma sagged back against her pillows, already exhausted. Why did she agree to have guests?

"That type of day, eh?" Elara asked with a hint of a smile. Emma looked over at Elara and just blinked slowly. She held up two fingers, pointed to her eyes, and then pointed her fingers at Elara to say she was going to be watching Elara closely. Elara only laughed in response.

"I'm sorry," Elara said. "I couldn't resist. I was wondering what the infamous George Weasley looked like. Your father is terrible at descriptions because all I could see was red hair and a lot of it. But you two are cute."

Emma reached out for her parchment with a sigh. ' _Yeah, but he's never going to want to be with me now_.'

"Why not?" Elara asked, shoving her hands in the pockets of her robe. "You're absolutely beautiful."

' _I'm not now…_ ' Emma rubbed hard at her eyes as she felt tears start to pool.

"Emma, you are beautiful," Elara insisted. "Don't you dare think otherwise. You're still you at the end of the day. Plus, that boy was looking at you like he's never seen anything prettier."

' _I look like a monster._ '

"Do you think that about Dad?"

Emma frowned at that and shook her head. ' _That's not fair_ ,' Emma wrote. She would never think that of her father and never did.

"It is too fair. Dad said that you refuse to look at yourself. You made him cover the mirror in the toilet so that you didn't see yourself. You can't have an opinion of yourself if you haven't looked. You might find that it's not as bad as you think."

Out of habit, Emma crossed her arms defiantly and winced as she touched the bite on her arm. As far as she was concerned, it _was_ as bad as she thought.

"All right," Elara sighed, "how are you doing today? Any new aches or pains?"

Emma shook her head, placing her arm in Elara's outstretched hand and quickly looking away. Her face twisted slightly as the bite was exposed to air from Elara lifting the bandages.

"Still the same, then?"

Emma nodded, trying to stare out the window. It really was an awfully small window, and Emma wondered why they even bothered putting a window in the ward at all.

"What about your throat? Still not talking by choice or because it hurts?"

Emma didn't respond, and Elara hummed thoughtfully. "Dad said that you were thrilled to have honey in your tea when you normally don't," Elara pointed out. "Did the honey help?"

With a sigh, Emma nodded. Emma could see the allure of sleeping twenty hours straight when it meant she slept through everything Elara was currently doing.

"Let's see what's going on then," Elara said. "Turn and face me so I can check."

It was the sort of check that made Emma appreciate what could be done magically. She was never fond of the poking and prodding Elara had to do. Elara was always gentle with it, but Emma's throat hurt far more than she thought.

"You actually might be better off not talking for a while," Elara said with a sigh. "You'll be fine, but right now, I'd rather not have you talk if you don't need to." She sat down on the bed next to Emma and handed her the parchment and quill. "So, you knew about Jude already?"

' _Fenrir told me. And it felt like he was in here. That was what woke me up._ '

"Did you tell Dad that?"

Emma shook her head. ' _I didn't think it mattered. What do you think Jude's going to do?_ '

"I don't know," Elara said sadly. "None of us do. The situation is, well, to be honest, everything is complete and utter shit right now. Did Dad tell you the current plan, or were you two cuddling all day?"

Emma looked at Elara curiously and then grinned. They most definitely cuddled all day so far. Emma listened to whatever stories from when she was younger Remus wanted to tell her. She enjoyed knowing exactly what he was talking about, and she really enjoyed hearing how he experienced the moment. It was one of the things that kept her spirits up, and Emma would never pass up a cuddle, especially with how cold the ward was. Remus's body heat felt wonderful when she felt chilled by the over-charmed room.

A knowing smile crossed Elara's face, and she chuckled. "You both needed the cuddle, so I don't blame you," she said. "So, first thing's first, I don't want you to get your hopes up, but we're trying to get you home for a little bit. We can't guarantee anything, but Tonks said there's a strong possibility that the anti-werewolf legislation can be looked past. Unfortunately, it's only temporary, but we're hoping to get you through some more of the summer. The goal is to keep you somewhere safe until you head back to school. At some point, Dad's going to have to go to an emergency hearing for you."

Emma grabbed for the parchment in excitement. ' _How long could I be home for?'_

"At most three weeks, but there's absolutely no guarantee that he'll get even that. The only thing that works in your favor is that it was Greyback that attacked you. They're going to see you being at the children's home as a liability."

' _But what if Jude tries to do the same thing? If Dad can do it, couldn't Jude, too?_ ' Emma wrote in a panic.

"We don't think he'll do anything yet," Elara said. "Speaking of which, why were your things packed already?"

' _Ellis told me to pack. I don't know why._ '

Elara frowned at that. "He just told you to pack your things?" Emma nodded, and Elara looked at her thoughtfully. "Dad also said that you remember things again? Greyback actually went and gave you your memories?"

A slow smile crossed Emma's face, and she nodded as she picked up her quill. ' _I do, and he did, but things are still a little fuzzy. Fenrir said I should be checked to see if I was obliviated at any point._ '

"He told you that? Really?"

' _He said he wouldn't put it past Jude. Apparently, he's good at memory spells._ '

"Fuck," Elara breathed out, rubbing her jaw. "Sorry, that wasn't professional of me. I forget I'm at work sometimes. Emma, do you think that you can pull that memory up for me so I can have a copy of it?"

Emma pulled her lower lip between her teeth and winced at the pull of the scratch on her lip. ' _Would it be better just to give you every moment I spent with him? I was with him nearly every night. There's a lot that he told me._ '

"If you're okay with it, I think that it'll answer a lot of questions."

' _Will Dad be mad that I spent so much time with Fenrir?_ '

"No, he won't be. You were in a difficult position, and cooperating with him was the right move, regardless of your, I'm sure, very conflicted feelings." Elara sighed, gently squeezing Emma's knee when she didn't look too sure about that. "Emma, believe me when I say he understands. He was you at one point, you know."

That struck a chord with Emma, and she looked at Elara, her brow furrowing slightly. She gingerly touched one of the scratches on her face and frowned. Fenrir attacking her was because he wanted to, she had no doubt about that, but Emma suddenly felt like there was another reason. Fenrir made it very clear that he wanted her, but she wondered if he was using her as a replacement for her father. It would be perfect. She had already looked like her father, she was still young, and she had formed a relationship with Fenrir growing up. Emma was everything that Fenrir didn't get with her father, and that explained a lot.

"I know what you're thinking. The thought crossed my mind, too," Elara said quietly, pulling Emma's hand away from her face. "Of course, your father doesn't think so, but I couldn't see a reason why Fenrir would go for the exact same pattern on your face. It's not his norm, but it doesn't make it any better." Emma cast Elara a dubious look, and she laughed. "No, I didn't just go into your mind to figure it out. Fenrir's done that enough to you, I'm sure. I've seen you enough to know where your mind wanders off to," Elara explained, placating Emma's curiosity.

' _What's the rest of the plan?_ ' Emma wrote, folding her legs in front of her.

"Well, my goal is to keep you here as long as I can possibly get away with while everything is getting situated. If for whatever reason, the Ministry decides to keep you where you are, I'm going to make it a point to find reasons to keep you here. I know it's not ideal, but we're making plans for plans. We're not letting anything happen to you again if we can help it."

Emma let out a long breath and nodded. It wasn't ideal in the least, but she didn't want to have to go back to the children's home. If it meant staying in St. Mungo's for a month, she would do it. It was certainly better than the alternative. She looked up as the doors to the ward opened again, and Fred and George walked back in. They stood awkwardly at the entrance, unsure of whether they should approach or not.

Elara gave Emma a reassuring smile, squeezing her knee again. "I can't promise that everything is going to be perfect, but we really are trying to figure out what to do. I noticed you've been looking at the beds near the window, so I'll start to set up a bed for you for after you can get cleaned off. And right now, I'm going to grab you your favorite potion in the whole world because I'm sure you need it," Elara said, standing up. "I know you're not going to like it, but before your grandfather comes tonight, I have an appointment for you with Dr. Wheeler."

It could be worse, Emma decided. She gave a half-hearted shrug and got herself comfortable again, waving for the twins to come over.

"How are you feeling?" George asked, sitting back down in his previous spot.

Emma gave a slight shrug as Elara came back with a pain-relief potion. She sighed, downing the potion quickly. If Emma never had to see another one of those potions, she would be perfectly all right.

"Clean bill of health?" Fred asked jokingly. "Look as though you don't even need to be here at all. I think they're messing with you."

Emma snorted, giving Fred a thumbs up. Silence fell, and Emma stared down at the parchment on her lap. ' _Where are the others?_ ' she wrote, looking between the twins curiously.

"Well, Ron is currently flirting with the Welcome Witch," Fred said with a laugh. "Ginny is with mum and dad. Percy went back home – the prat – and so we decided to come back here. I think I might have actually dragged George back, to be honest."

' _Why?_ ' Emma wrote, growing more and more curious.

"Well, George, who is being awfully quiet because he's nervous, has something he wants to say to you."

Emma looked at George, tilting her head. She was afraid to know what he would want to say to her. Maybe he didn't want to be friends with her anymore? Every horrible possibility started to run through her head, and her stomach flipped with anxiety.

"I know this is awful timing, but I don't know that I can wait for us to be back at school," George said, trailing off as he ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. Emma's stomach sank. He didn't want to talk to her anymore.

"Uhm…well, my plan was to ask you out on a date at…some point over the holiday, but then you never wrote back. I got worried that maybe you weren't actually interested in me. I didn't realize how much was actually going on. I had no idea that you didn't have an owl and when my letters kept coming back… Anyway, there's this Muggle bookshop in the town near where I live that I thought you might like. I wanted to take you there and maybe, er, have a picnic or something."

A sad smile crossed Emma's face as George trailed off again. That was a bit disappointing for her to hear, but she expected it. ' _It's okay if you don't want to anymore_ ,' she wrote. ' _I understand._ '

"No! No, I do. A lot, but now that I know how things have been for you, I don't know how easy it would be. Which is why I'm having such a hard time right now…"

Emma frowned, tilting her head as she looked at George. She really had no idea where this conversation was going.

"What I'm trying to say is, er…"

"Oh, bloody hell, I can't listen to this anymore," Fred said. "Emma, what my brother is trying to say is he wants you to be his girlfriend, but he's being stupid."

Emma looked over at Fred, her eyes wide, and then over at George. There was no possible way that was true. She blinked owlishly at him and then frantically grabbed onto his hands, pulling up his sleeves to inspect his arms.

"Er, what are you doing?" George asked, looking at Emma in confusion.

Emma let go of George's arms to grab her quill, scratching frantically at the parchment. ' _I'm making sure you weren't bitten by something as well_ ,' Emma wrote. ' _This is a terrible prank, George._ '

"It's not a prank!"

"You're not the one who has to listen to him, Em," Fred said. "It's all, Emma this, Emma that, at home. Makes it a bit hard to work on our future product line when he's too busy thinking about you."

Emma was stunned. ' _You really can't be serious. Even with how I look? Me?_ '

"Yes, of course you," George said earnestly, his voice soft and his cheeks turning pink. "You're, er…you're very pretty. You know that, right?"

' _But I was attacked by a werewolf. I don't look the same_.'

"You'll never be anything less than beautiful to me."

Emma's breath caught in her chest, and her mouth fell open as she stared at George incredulously. Hopeful butterflies fluttered in her stomach, but she was too afraid to believe him, but he looked sincere. ' _You're actually serious?_ '

"Yes, I really am."

"I think you're meant to be the one to ask her, not your brother," Elara said as she walked by with the things she needed to set Emma up at the bed at the end of the ward.

George laughed nervously. "It probably should be me, yeah?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. He sighed, gently taking Emma's hands in his. "This wasn't how I wanted to ask you at all, but like I said, I don't know that I want to wait to ask…so, Emma Lupin, will you be my girlfriend?"

Emma's brain had gone fuzzy, and she immediately started to believe in Luna's Wrackspurts because she most definitely had them. This was absolutely not how she would have ever expected to be asked out, but she was starting to expect her summer to be strange.

"Emma, this is the part where you answer the poor boy," Elara said on her way back to the other end of the ward. "Don't try and pretend you didn't spend weeks talking about how you wanted George to ask you out."

"You did?" George asked, looking surprised.

Emma could only nod, pulling her hands from George's to cover her face to try and hide her bright red cheeks. The moment she was ready to talk, she would give Elara a piece of her mind for this.

"Oh, wicked," George said, clearing his throat. "Well, er…what do you say? Yeah?"

Anxious and giddy giggles left Emma's lips, and she peered at George through her fingers, nodding furiously.

"Yeah? Really?" George asked excitedly. Emma continued to nod, and George went to hug her before stopping himself.

"She's not going to break if you hug her, I promise," Elara said, passing by again.

Emma pulled her hands away to shoot Elara a glare. The cheeky grin on Elara's face told Emma she was obviously finding excuses to keep walking by, and Emma couldn't believe her. With a sigh, Emma decided to take the initiative and hug George herself, smiling when he put his arms around her. She really hoped that George would still take her out on that date.

☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾ ☽✶☾

When Remus returned to the ward, he had to stop and take a moment to take in the sight in front of him. Emma was surrounded by what seemed like a sea of red-haired children. Ron sat at the foot of the bed, and Emma remained in her spot at the top, legs folded in front of her as she stared hard at the chessboard between them. Ginny sat in the chair next to the bed but had moved it to sit beside the chessboard to watch. Fred sat next to Emma on her right, and George sat on her left with his arm very much draped loosely around her waist. Remus always braced himself to have an overprotective need to take George's place, but instead, he felt at peace. He felt settled, Moony felt settled; this was what Emma needed.

Percy was noticeably not amongst the children, but Remus wasn't entirely surprised after hearing he insisted he needed to prepare for work at the Ministry. Remus had been stopped by Arthur and Molly when he returned, so each Weasley was accounted for. Fred tapped Emma's shoulder, and she leaned slightly in his direction, not taking her eyes off the board. He cupped his hand to her ear, and a smile broke on her face as she pushed one of the pieces with a finger.

"That's cheating!" Ron said, his jaw dropping as he shot Fred a glare.

"Oi, you're not the one in the hospital!" Ginny said sharply, punching Ron's arm. She looked at Emma and gestured to the board. "That was an excellent move, Emma."

Emma snorted, leaning back into George with a happy little smile.

Elara, who had exchanged shifts with one of her coworkers, caught Remus's eye with a wink. She made her way over to the bed, and there were simultaneous groans from all the children. Elara purposely placed herself in front of Emma's vision to keep her from looking at Remus standing near the entrance. "Really?" Elara asked, putting her hands on her hips. "I let three out of four of you on the bed again, and you're going to complain? I told you lot I was going to have to do Emma's bandage change at some point." There was another collective groan that made Remus smile, and Elara sighed and shook her head. "All right, boyfriend's brother – out so I can start with her arm."

 _Boyfriend's brother?_ What did he miss in the two hours he was gone? Remus remained where he stood, crossing his arms as he continued watching. Fred slipped out of bed to let Elara take over the space he was in, and Emma thrust her arm out, turning her head the other direction. It broke Remus's heart that she still wasn't ready to look at herself.

Fred looked up and froze when he noticed Remus, and he turned back to look at George. George looked at Fred curiously and followed his brother's gesturing. George's eyes grew wide, and Remus arched an eyebrow at him, making the teenager turn a brilliant shade of red and give a sheepish smile in response. That was a very unexpected development, and he allowed himself to give George a nod of approval. If it meant Emma was happy, that's all that mattered. He was very curious to know the story behind how that happened. Clearly, he had missed a lot while he was away.

Instead of torturing George, Remus turned his attention to what Elara was doing. He still hadn't seen what they looked like. So far, Remus had only seen the scratches on her face. If Emma wanted to show him the other scratches, she would, but he knew it would be a process. He was relieved that the Weasley children had the sense to mostly look away, though he didn't blame their curious glances. This was new for them, too.

Remus winced instinctively when Elara pulled the bandage back. It was hard to tell that her bite wasn't caused by a transformed werewolf from a distance. Fenrir's acceptance of the wolf had led to small changes to his anatomy, especially with his teeth. While most of the pack had their teeth shaved, a process that had repulsed Remus, Fenrir's teeth had taken on their pointed shape on their own. The bite pattern wasn't entirely the same as a transformed wolf's bite as Fenrir was forced to accept human limitations, but it was close enough.

By how deeply inset the teeth marks were, it was a wonder that Fenrir didn't bite through Emma's arm. He frowned as he noticed the drag of the bite where Emma had tried to pull her arm away. Remus took a deep breath to try and keep himself calm, and his heart broke as he caught the sounds of Emma's sniffles as Elara cleaned the wound. Knowing his daughter, that meant she was refusing the potions Elara tried to give her.

"I'm almost done with this one, Emma," Elara said soothingly. "I know that George is holding you right now, and I know that he takes your breath away, but you really need to breathe for me, baby."

Emma's sniffles gave way to pained laughter, and the others joined in. Remus had left Emma in beyond excellent hands.

Elara straightened up with a sigh and looked at George. "All right, boyfriend, time for you to get out," she said, walking around to the other side of the bed. George gave Emma's hand a squeeze and slid out to stand off to the side. Elara gave Emma a soft smile and ran a hand through her hair. "This one is going to be a little worse, but you can do it, yeah? If this bite is healing as nicely as the other one, then I won't have to do this again."

"You hear that?" George said gently. "You're almost done!"

With a small sigh, Emma turned her head the other way, her gaze fixed on the fresh bandages on her arm. She ignored the curious looks of the Weasley's and tried to ignore what Elara was doing. Emma finally looked up and spotted Remus, her eyes growing wide. She shot Fred a look, and he gave a slight shrug.

"He's been there the entire time," Fred said, giving Emma a sheepish grin.

Emma, to her credit, looked embarrassed for a few seconds before she reached out for Remus. It reminded Remus so much of when Emma was a baby that he was over to her in a heartbeat. Remus set the bag he brought with him for Emma down on the floor and sat down in the spot Fred had occupied only moments prior. Emma looped her arm around his and leaned against him, her little sniffles returning.

Remus looked at Elara over Emma's head as she worked, and they shared a look. The bite on Emma's shoulder was worse than the one on her arm. It was much deeper and more defined, but a cleaner bite. Emma had been too surprised for that one to react quickly to it. They both knew that Fenrir wanted that mark to be seen, purposely placed that any other werewolf would know who it belonged to. Remus had been subjected to a very similar bite from Fenrir, but at least his could be hidden well. Emma's would be a problem. A sharp hiss escaped Emma's lips as Elara touched a sensitive spot, and she clutched tight to Remus's arm.

"She didn't take anything?" Remus asked Elara curiously.

"Emma has been refusing any and all potions since you left," Elara said. "She's insisting that she doesn't need them. I only got a half of a dose in her earlier before she refused everything outright."

"Sweetheart," Remus said gently, "if it hurts, just take the potion. It's all right to need help, and if it helps you to be more comfortable, it's fine."

Emma shook her head and hid her face in Remus's arm.

"We've tried to tell her to take something," Ginny added, "but I don't think she likes how it makes her feel."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, pain potions are infused with a calming draught of sorts, aren't they?" George supplied, looking at Elara for confirmation. "I don't know that Emma likes that feeling. It's like when you're flying, and you feel weightless. That's what Emma doesn't like."

Leave it to the Weasley children to clear up a mystery about Emma. That made a lot of sense to Remus, especially considering how alert Emma was. She felt like she needed to be aware of everything, not wanting to let her guard drop. It was a fear-based reaction, and Remus felt guilty that he left. It was still too soon for her to be alone.

"Emma, I'm here now," Remus said lightly. "You are safe. Nothing is going to happen to you here, especially with me around, I promise." Very slowly, Emma lifted her gaze to meet his. "You can't tell me that you're not in pain. I can see it in your eyes, love. You don't have to be brave all the time."

"And you've been pretty damn brave," George said.

"Very," Ginny agreed.

"I think the Sorting Hat might have placed you in the wrong house," Fred added. "You're clearly a Gryffindor."

All three Weasley children turned to look at Ron, who looked confused. Ginny punched him again, and Ron straightened up. "You've been pretty brave, yeah," Ron said with an unsure nod. Ginny rolled her eyes, but it was a decent attempt from Ron.

"All done," Elara finally said, and Emma straightened up slightly, though she kept her arms locked around Remus's. "I think we can keep it covered for a few more hours, and then you can let it breathe. I know you're itching for a shower. Now, what do you say about that potion?"

Emma looked at the group surrounding her, looking incredibly unsure. She studied everyone's faces in turn, her frown growing at each encouraging nod. Emma finally looked back at Remus, searching his eyes, looking for the reassurance that she needed.

"I'm not going to leave you alone again," Remus promised. "If you're here, then I'm here."

It took Emma a few more moments of looking at everyone before she finally turned to Elara with a slight nod. It was a step in the right direction.

Emma ultimately didn't win her chess match with Ron, even though she had guidance. At one point, she decided that she knew exactly what she was doing and looked mildly crestfallen when she realized she lost. Ron offered to teach her how to play the game strategically when they returned to school, to everyone's surprise. Emma supposed that meant they were finally friends, after all.

Shortly after, the Weasleys left with plenty of hugs and kisses that left Emma as red as their hair and even left her with small gifts. Molly had taken the time to spoil Emma like no tomorrow with plenty of homemade food, pies, and even a very decadent fudge that Remus couldn't find fault in. To Emma's absolute delight, Molly brought Emma a knitted, patchwork blanket and another jumper that she happily put on over her pajamas. Emma only grew happier when Molly spotted Boris and Bee propped up against Emma's pillow and insisted that she would have jumpers for them as well.

Emma's energy drastically decreased when they left, and she snuggled against Remus with a yawn. She was happy and felt at ease being surrounded by people who loved her. She didn't want to meet George's parents the way she did, but they were sweet. Emma felt a little worried that Mrs. Weasley had to put in more effort to like her, but she was grateful that the woman tried. Emma understood her situation was strange, and Mrs. Weasley had clear concerns over her being half-werewolf. She didn't voice the thought directly to her, but Emma caught snippets of her conversation with Mr. Weasley. Mr. Weasley tried to reassure his wife that it didn't matter if George was happy, that even if Emma _was_ a werewolf, it was only for one night.

It was odd to hear someone else say the exact words she often told her father, but she now knew how much damage a single night could cause. Emma tried to not let it get under her skin when Mrs. Weasley still brought her gifts that she was grateful for. At least the woman was trying.

"That was a mighty big yawn, sweetheart," Remus chuckled, kissing the top of Emma's head. "Had a lot of commotion for a while, yeah?"

Another yawn escaped Emma's lips as she nodded. She got up on her knees to reach over Remus to grab the notebook and pen he brought with him, giving her father a grin when he scoffed in disbelief.

"You know I could have grabbed that for you," he said, giving her a mock-glare with a smile on his face.

' _You've done enough for me_ ,' she wrote, reaching back to pull her stuffed animals on her lap. She picked up Boris to stare at him with a slight frown. The bear really did look like his human counterpart, and she set him down to write back in the notebook. ' _I think I need to give my bear a new name. It's a little weird knowing there's a real Boris now._ '

"Do you have a new name in mind?"

Emma looked at the bear thoughtfully before shaking her head. ' _Do you?_ '

Remus picked up the teddy bear and took a good look at him. The bear had been through so much with Emma, and as Remus brushed his finger over a patch he had to add, he felt inspired. "It's going to sound silly, but what about Patches?" Remus suggested. "He's been everywhere with you, for all of the little moments you've needed to be patched up. And he has one of his own. I think it would be a fitting name."

Looking even more thoughtful, Emma took the bear back from Remus to study the bear. She set the bear back down on her lap, one arm locked around its middle, and wrote, ' _It's perfect_.'

"Now…what's this about George being your boyfriend?"

' _I'll tell you later_ ,' Emma wrote, covering her face with her bear with a giggle.

Emma was getting sick of staying in bed, but she dealt with it only to prolong the moment before she could take a shower. She made an agreement with her father that when Elara gave her the okay to get washed off that she would finally look at herself. It felt like she would never be ready for the moment, but she knew it would have to happen.

Her heart started to race when Elara made her way over to check how things were healing up. Emma frowned when Elara gave her a sympathetic look as she pulled away the bandage from her arm. She felt disgusted when she looked at the bite, and she pulled her gaze away quickly; looking at herself was going to be difficult. Her stomach flipped when Elara gave the all-clear that she could take a shower.

"You're not alone," Remus reminded Emma. "It'll be fine – I promise. I'll come with you to look."

She felt ridiculous standing in the shower room set off from the ward. Emma stood in front of the mirror, her arms crossed, tapping her foot. Every time she thought she could look up at herself, she couldn't find it in herself to do so.

"Sweetheart, you can't avoid looking at yourself forever," Remus said lightly.

Emma turned her head to give her father a look that said she planned to do exactly that and had made plans already. It seemed stupid when she had let others see her, but the idea of having to acknowledge herself was terrifying.

"Close your eyes," Remus said. Emma shot Remus another look, and he gave her a pointed look until she did what he asked. He turned her face forward, lifting her chin so that she actually faced the mirror. "I know you're not going to want to look, but the longer you wait, the worse it'll be," Remus said gently, letting go of Emma's face to smooth back her hair as he stepped behind her. He kissed the back of her head, rubbing her arms. "My mum did this with me, and now I'm going to do this with you. Take a deep breath, and I want you to open your eyes on three. One, two, three…"

Emma opened her eyes on three, already hating how she looked before she even focused on her appearance. Her expression shifted several times very quickly as she studied herself in the mirror. She was startled to look at herself. The scratches weren't as deep as she thought they were, but they felt terrible. They were a little easier for her to accept than she thought because she had grown used to seeing the same scratches on Remus's face. Elara had been right; it wasn't as bad as she thought, but Emma wasn't sure that she liked it.

They were stark against her pale skin, and she finally understood the stunned looks she had been receiving at first look. The scratches looked angry and aggravated despite the care taken to start diminishing their appearance. Emma leaned in closer to the mirror, letting out a soft hum when she noticed the silver streaks of hair in her eyebrow on either side of the scratch. That wasn't something she expected. Her moment of acceptance moved into disgust of herself. It wasn't because she felt that she was ugly from the scars, but it was because she had them at all. Finally, Emma's expression settled on guilt as she looked back at Remus in the reflection. She shouldn't feel terrible about herself.

"You don't have to pretend that you're okay with it," Remus said, reading through her expression. "Just because we look alike, it doesn't mean you have to accept it. It's your face, not mine. I know they look rough right now, but you know they'll smooth out. It takes time, love. I know you're sick of hearing that, but it's the truth."

Emma frowned, her eyes flicking back and forth between herself and Remus in the mirror. She wanted to pick out where they were different, and suddenly that task became a lot more difficult. Angry tears filled her eyes as she pulled herself away from the mirror. Emma wasn't sure what she was mad about anymore, whether she was angry with herself or angry with Fenrir. Perhaps both, perhaps neither. Having to confront herself meant having to face the fact that she still felt incredibly torn.

With a sigh, Emma pointed at the scratch through her eyebrow, asking him silently why the hair had gone grey.

"It's because it's a cursed wound," Remus explained. Emma looked at Remus in the mirror's reflection curiously, touching her hair. Remus looked back at her, looking as though he also had to confront his own feelings to help Emma navigate hers. He looked uncomfortable as she felt.

"For me…it's because I…I hate what I am, and I resist it," he said slowly, his voice full of self-loathing that Emma hadn't heard in a very long time. "If I resisted harder, chances are I would be completely grey. Elara was bitten multiple times, and she resisted her transformation very hard in the beginning." Remus cleared his throat to give himself a moment to change his tone. "It's never easy to go through, and she thought she could fight it. Her hair was always dark, but after her third transformation, it went completely grey. It took her a while to get over it, but I think she likes it now."

Emma turned herself around so that she could hug Remus tightly. She had never cared that he was a werewolf, even when she was younger. A part of her wondered if it would have been easier for him to accept in their time apart had he known that.

"I know you don't care," Remus said. "I just don't know that I'll ever be able to accept myself. But…you make things a little easier for me."

A sad smile crossed Emma's face when she pulled away to look at herself in the mirror again. She glanced at her unbandaged arm and looked at her shoulder, not wanting to move her shirt's collar to look. With a sigh, Emma slowly pulled aside the fabric and felt her stomach drop as she looked at the wound. It was somehow much worse than the bite on her arm, and Fenrir's words started to echo in her head in understanding.

_You belong to me, Rabbit. And everyone is going to know it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	18. Moving Forward

Emma was grateful that she didn't need to be paraded around the hospital for her appointment with Dr. Wheeler. Rather than going to one of the visiting doctor's rooms, Elara had a room set up down the hall. At least this room had more decorations than the first room they had ever met in.

It felt almost like her first appointment all over again, and she focused on the ticking clock. Emma knew it was entirely pessimistic of her, but it felt as though the clock was mocking her as if it knew time was running out. How much time did she have left before Fenrir got everything he wanted from her? She felt powerless against him.

Remus, who Emma forced to come with her, sat in his chair watching her. The look of concern that she knew all too well was written all over his face. He probably felt the same way she did – two steps forward, one step back.

"Well, the thing we were discussing for months happened," Dr. Wheeler said softly after a while. "Now, let's discuss how to move forward."

Emma watched as Dr. Wheeler went into her overlarge handbag and pulled out a rectangular object and a marker. She looked at it curiously before realizing that it was a whiteboard and dry-erase marker. Her primary school had only just started using them before she started at Hogwarts and Hogwarts used chalkboards exclusively. She would have to start paying more attention to what was actually out in the Muggle world. The last thing Emma wanted to do was admit that Fenrir was right that she relied too much on magic.

Most of Emma's time was spent listening to Dr. Wheeler and sometimes answering her questions using the whiteboard. She sat in her chair with her knees pulled up to her chest. Patches, who she was still trying to remember had a new name, sat on one side of her, Bee on the other. Emma kept the whiteboard propped up on her knees for whenever she needed to answer a question, but mostly she just listened. A lot of what Dr. Wheeler said made sense, and Emma could see the appeal of what the woman was saying, but she didn't like it.

The moment Dr. Wheeler started discussing her being a victim and a survivor, Emma almost immediately tuned out. She didn't want to be either of those things, and it rubbed her the wrong way.

Emma could acknowledge that she was a victim of Fenrir's; there was no doubt about that. One could argue that she survived a werewolf attack, among other things, but Emma didn't like either label. As much as Dr. Wheeler told her that it was okay, Emma didn't think it was good enough. She realized that Remus picked up her mood shift when he shifted his chair closer to hers, and Emma frowned at him. He gave her a soft smile in response, grabbing her foot and stretching her leg out over the top of the armrest so that he could hold her foot in his lap. Emma tried to let her grumpiness be shown, but he looked at her with so much love that she couldn't. She settled on a pout instead.

The moment the conversation shifted towards whether Emma wanted to continue doing what she wanted, she became confused. She couldn't understand why Dr. Wheeler talked to her as if her goals would have ever changed.

' _That hasn't changed_ ,' Emma wrote on the whiteboard, her brow furrowing. ' _I think what happened to me gives me more of an incentive to do what I decided I wanted to do. A werewolf helping other werewolves makes sense._ '

Remus gave Emma's foot a squeeze. "Sweetheart, you're not –"

Emma immediately waved her father off to stop talking to write out her message to Remus, not caring that it took up the entire board in small letters. ' _Boris told me that it doesn't matter. Half or full, you all consider me wolf. If you didn't, Soleil wouldn't have a name. If Fenrir didn't, he wouldn't be so obsessed with bringing me to the pack. There's no getting around it – I'm a werewolf. This is what I want to do, and I'm not going to be stopped._ '

It was a very resolute choice, and perhaps hastily made, but Emma refused to let Fenrir win. She needed to take power back that Fenrir tried to steal from her and use that for good. If it was assumed that she wouldn't want to continue on her current path, she needed to prove everyone wrong. Perhaps her journey had gotten a little bit harder, but she wanted to help as many as she could. At the end of the day, Fenrir Greyback would learn that she was the last person to mess with.

Seeing her grandfather was surprisingly more emotional than she thought it would be. She could see the guilt written across his face. It was the very same guilt that Remus had initially worn seeing her as if everything could have been prevented. Emma could feel her anger rolling up from her belly, coming up as thick bile that she had to swallow back. She didn't want to be angry with her grandfather, but he knew, and the reality was so much worse than she had thought. She had only one word for Lyall, and that was the word, ' _Why?_ '

Lyall looked at her curiously, unsure of what Emma could be talking about until Remus explained that she remembered everything. His face fell, and he settled himself into the chair next to Emma's bed. He pulled his glasses off his face and rubbed his eyes with one hand before lifting his shoulders in defeat.

"I'm going to tell you what I told your father," Lyall said quietly, putting his glasses back on slowly, "I thought I was doing the right thing."

Emma fell asleep halfway through Lyall's visit, sitting up in bed, curled up with her head on Remus's chest. She was woken up gently by her father hours later, pulling her out of her nightmare, this time of Jude poisoning her. She was surprised that Remus didn't bother getting himself comfortable and stayed exactly where he was. The ward's lights were dimmed again, and Emma latched onto Remus's wrist to look at the time as her watch was tucked in her bag with all of her things. At least she didn't sleep twenty hours again.

Unease swept through her veins as if there was something significant about her dream, something about Jude. The more she tried to think about it, the quicker the dream faded from her mind. Remus stroked her hair, looking as concerned as always.

She gave Remus a sleepy smile and moved so that he could finally get himself comfortable. She curled back into his side to snuggle with a sigh; he never left her side and was more than content to share the same space as her. Emma loved that he was willing to sacrifice his comfort for her, but he still hadn't had a real moment to rest. He had come out of his transformation and went right to her, and it was starting to show. His exhaustion showed in every part of his face, and though he denied it, he was walking around stiffly. She would have to tell him to just take the bed next to hers since no one dared to ask him to leave. For now, she would take advantage of his calming presence, gentle warmth, and his soft humming that lulled her quickly back to sleep.

Morning brought forth a very exhausting day. Remus managed to get the emergency hearing, which surprised them all but was an exciting turn of events. There were no guarantees that anything would happen, but he was determined. During that time, Elara decided that it was worth looking into Fenrir's claim that Emma could have had her memory altered. Neither of them was happy to find out that he had been correct. The procedure that followed was amongst one of the few Emma never wanted to go through again because it became overcomplicated with Soleil involved. Having someone in her mind so invasively was not a comfortable feeling at all.

Elara was meant to be elsewhere in the hospital but instead had to help Emma communicate with Soleil better. Emma stared at Elara in alarm when she realized that she was talking so freely about being a werewolf in front of the Healer they were with. The Healer, Francisco, waved off Emma's concerns.

"Sweetheart, I've known for a very long time," he assured her. "I knew a few months into Ellie Bear working here. I don't care because she's good at what she does. Plus, she's a riot when we go out for drinks."

Emma wanted to make a comment about Elara being called Ellie Bear, but she had to focus. Soleil wasn't fond of someone being in her head, and trying to keep her secondary thoughts at bay was difficult. The wolfish side of her mind was a lot stronger than she thought it was, and Emma couldn't recall being so aware of Soleil before. Soleil was a constant presence, but not to the extremes she was currently invading her mind. Emma wondered if it was due to how much stress she was going through or if Fenrir brought it out of her by biting her. Emma chose to believe the former instead of the latter.

Emma didn't entirely understand the process of what Francisco was doing. It felt almost like he was trying to unwrap a badly knotted cord each time he found a fuzzy bit of her memory, except he had a rabid dog to contend with. The process would have gone a lot quicker if there weren't so many different forces pulling at her. It certainly would have been less headache-inducing. It was even worse when Francisco discovered memories that were altered. Whenever he came across those memories, it was like putting together a puzzle and very uncomfortable.

"Emma, do you have frequent nightmares?" Francisco asked during one of the breaks Emma needed. She was resting against Elara, desperately needing support from how exhausted she was becoming. A small frown crossed Emma's face as she cracked open her eyes, and she nodded.

"I'm not surprised," he replied. "Whoever cast the charms wanted to make sure that you had them. Nearly all of the charms cast were from when you were very young, but there are quite a few that are within the past five years."

"Bastard," Elara muttered. "Paco, I hate to give you extra paperwork, but I need you to write up a detailed report for me with your findings." Francisco readily agreed and proceeded to try and convince Emma that it was time to keep going.

"You know, you're lucky in a way," Francisco said when he finally deemed Emma completely clear. "The wolf side of you will protect you from most mind invasions. The things you want to hide, you can keep tucked away with her. It won't help around other werewolves, but to the ordinary witch or wizard, you can use that to your advantage."

That put a thoughtful look on Elara's face. "That's an excellent point," Elara said. "I'll have to talk to your Dad about teaching you Occlumency."

It was just as well that Emma immediately fell asleep the moment she was allowed back into bed, exhausted both mentally and physically. The process was taxing, especially in her already sensitive state. She wouldn't have easily handled hearing that Remus didn't come back with entirely good news.

"What do you mean they said they 'need more time?'" Elara snapped. "For what?"

"Elara, I don't know," Remus said tiredly, sitting down in the chair next to Emma's bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He rubbed his temples, his eyes, his face, shaking his head. "I wasn't expecting them to pull the Pensieve in and having to relive those moments all over again."

"I do not understand how they could sit through her memories and say that they need more time to make a decision. She's a _child_ ," Elara growled. "Fine, if that's the game they're going to play, then I'm keeping her here all summer if I have to."

A wry smile crossed Remus's face. "Except they're forcing her to leave."

Elara didn't bother to mask her anger, lips curling back as she snarled, "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I'm sure there's already an owl here saying she needs to be discharged by Wednesday."

"For what reason?"

"Wasting resources."

"Let me guess, that was Umbridge's decision?"

Remus's laugh was mirthless and bitter as he scrubbed his hands over his face. "That woman is the bane of my existence," he said, sitting up and crossing his arms. "Makes plenty of talk about 'our kind,' but the moment you bring up that Emma could be considered the same, she sings an entirely different tune."

"I just don't understand why she's even a part of any of this," Elara growled. "She needs to be at home. Dr. Wheeler said she needs to be home – there are plenty of _medical professionals_ that say she needs to be home. This isn't just a passing fancy of yours. This is important and medically necessary for her to have any sense of recovery."

A voice spoke up at the other end of the ward. The man who had been Emma's three-bed away neighbor was watching them curiously, his rough face screwed up in confusion. No one had been able to get out of him what bit him, so he remained there as they tried to figure out his treatment. "What do you mean you can't take her home?" he asked.

Remus and Elara looked at each other. They weren't sure where the conversation would go, but they hadn't been quiet about much since arriving. The other occupant of the ward, another man, was listening just as curiously. He was a loud fellow, bit by a poisonous tarantula, but refused to give the breed's name, leading them to believe he was an illegal breeder. If they were going to worry about secrecy, now was the wrong time to do it.

"I imagine you've read the Prophet?" Remus asked, trying to brace himself for whatever could possibly leave the man's mouth.

"Not many who haven't, especially when the news came out about you," the man admitted. "Sorry, I know I've been staring – it's the whole werewolf thing and how they wrote you both to be. I was pissed to find out you had been working at Hogwarts and working around children. I'm not going to lie about that. I thought you would be as savage as Greyback, but then she came in, and it confused me because she was attacked by the bastard. Didn't make any sense to me if the papers said you had already attacked her. Then you came in, and you were just a mess. You didn't care about anything but her."

"She's my entire world, and all I wanted to do was to keep her safe," Remus sighed, reaching out to brush Emma's hair off of her face. "Being arrested wasn't an experience I want to live through again, but not having her with me is much worse. The moment they said she couldn't come home after they finally released me was the worst moment of my life."

"The only time I've seen you get angry is because you've been pissed that something happened to her. You're more mild-mannered than half the wizards I know, polite and the whatnot. Wasn't expecting it."

"I certainly try to be," Remus said sadly. "I know what it's like to be on the other side. I don't want to be the cause of anyone's pain if I can help it."

The man studied Remus closely as if he were under a microscope, blue eyes squinting hard, his lips pursing. "I'm still not sure what to think," the man said slowly before gesturing to Emma's sleeping form, "but that sort of love can't be manufactured. How old is she again?"

"She'll, uh…she'll be fifteen in just over a month, actually," Remus said thickly. He hated to be reminded of how old Emma really was sometimes. Every time Remus thought he went through a lot, he had to remind himself that Emma had gone through so much more in half the time.

"If she's nearly fifteen and loves you that much, well…can't say my sons were the same way at her age. My daughter was, though. These girls, they're just incredible."

"Oh, I know," Remus agreed. "Beyond incredible."

The man gave a great grunt as he adjusted himself on his bed. "Now, about this other fellow, this Jude guy, what's the deal with him?"

Remus frowned, looking over at Elara for assistance. They _really_ didn't keep their conversations quiet at all, and they still weren't sure who was working with Greyback. They had a fair amount of wariness to anyone and everyone, careful of what they said outside the ward. It was careless of them, but the damage was already done.

"Might as well, Remus," Elara whispered. "It's not like it matters now. We need all the possible friends we can get."

Emma woke up in the late afternoon to find she had visitors again, and even more than before. She was groggy, but she agreed. When she realized that it was the Weasley's again, Emma was happy to see them. Her happiness only grew when she realized Luna and Cedric were with them. Being surrounded by everyone made her want to be somewhere else and made her restless. They could all be doing so much, but instead, she was stuck in the hospital.

Emma was tickled that Molly had made Patches and Bee jumpers like she said she would. She wasn't expecting them to be made so quickly. Emma immediately put the jumpers on her stuffed animals with a brilliant smile, happily showing Remus their new additions. Patches looked sharp in his new olive-green jumper, and the blue jumper for Bee went well with his fur. She loved that George suggested that Bee's jumper have little elbow patches like one of her favorite jumpers from Remus.

"Thought you might like that little addition," George said with a blush when his parents finally left the ward. "I know it's a bit on the nose to give the wolf a similar jumper, but I know how much you love your dad and –"

With a giggle, Emma leaned over to kiss George's cheek to make him stop talking. It was funny, and she found the humor in it. It was such a simple little thing that was so personal for her that it was impossible to not delight in it.

Cedric and Luna had already gotten the rundown on what had happened before arriving at St. Mungo's, which spared Emma from the questions. Luna made Emma move up on the bed so she could sit behind her and braid her hair.

"You know, they're not bad, your scars," Luna said airily. Everyone was hanging onto Luna's words, wondering what exactly she was about to say. No one acknowledged Emma's healing wounds if they didn't have to, but Luna was different. Remus looked nervous, Ginny and George looked horrified, Fred and Ron were stunned, and Cedric wasn't sure of what to think.

Emma turned her head slightly to look back at Luna, who ran her fingers back through Emma's hair to pull it out of her braid. Even Emma was curious to know what Luna would say.

"You look as though you've gone on a grand adventure," Luna said with a smile. "As if you've conquered the greatest mountains and traveled through the wildest trees. Perhaps you were on a quest to find something rare and important that would help an entire village, but you had to return home. Your scars just prove that you were on the right track." Luna leaned forward to kiss Emma's cheek, and she began to restart the braid she started. "You have proof that you're resilient. Even though you sometimes get set back, you always find it in yourself to move forward."

There was a collective release of breath as a smile broke out on Emma's face at Luna's words. Emma had no idea how Luna could be so perceptive, and she was glad that Remus introduced them, as sneaky as it was. She loved Luna's company and loved the things she said even more.

"When we go back to school, I want to take your picture," Luna suddenly said. "I think it would be wonderful to paint your scars and take your photo with the Thestrals."

Whatever relief had been felt by the others quickly went to horror. Remus immediately looked up from the book he was trying to read to look at the two with comically large eyes. Emma had to cover her mouth to keep herself from laughing and picked up her pen and paper that Remus brought her.

' _Won't the Thestrals be invisible in the photo?_ ' Emma wrote, lifting the paper to show Luna.

"Yes, probably," Luna said thoughtfully. "But we'll know that they're there, and that's what matters, no?"

Luna had a point.

The Weasleys, Luna, and Cedric left earlier than they wanted when Emma had even more visitors. The Healers on duty had finally insisted people start leaving, and even Remus had to agree. Remus wasn't sure that Emma could handle more visitors, but when the Healer said there were only two, he found himself curious. When the Healer mentioned, "some girl named Hermione and a boy named Justin," Emma immediately agreed. She wouldn't ever pass up a chance of seeing Justin, and seeing Hermione would be all right.

Hermione, who managed to keep her shock reasonably well hidden at seeing Emma, brought a small pile of books for Emma to read. Justin, on the other hand, openly stared at Emma. If it were anyone else, she would have been offended. Luna made her feel a million times better about her new scars, and Justin wasn't always known for his subtlety.

' _Word travels fast,_ ' Emma wrote. ' _I didn't think so many people would want to see me._ '

"Why not?" Justin asked, shaking himself out of his stunned surprise. "You're still you, you're just…here." He helped himself to a piece of fudge that Mrs. Weasley had brought with her; the woman insisted that the fudge from the previous day wasn't enough.

"Because she was attacked by a werewolf," Hermione said in disgust, looking at Justin as if he was stupid. She looked over at Remus with wide eyes and cringed. "I'm so sorry, Professor Lupin."

"It's Remus, Hermione. I'm no longer your professor," Remus said with a slight sigh. "Don't apologize. That's exactly what happened to Emma, and I say it with the same amount of disgust."

"But you're not like –"

"It's fine," Remus said tightly. He pressed a kiss to the top of Emma's head. "I think I'm going to head to the tearoom to get something to eat if that's all right," he said to Emma. "Would you like anything, love?"

Emma shook her head and waved him off. She would be fine for a little bit. Hermione looked absolutely humiliated as Remus left, and Justin looked less than impressed.

"Good going, Granger," Justin said, lifting an eyebrow at Hermione.

"Gods, I didn't _mean_ it like _that_ ," Hermione said, covering her face. "I went and found as much information as I could about Greyback after I heard from Ron, and the things he's done –"

It was a very Hermione thing to do – research anything and everything she possibly could on a topic to understand. She had done it with werewolves in the same way Emma did, but not to the same extent. Emma wasn't at all surprised that it was one of the first things Hermione did at all.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione said, apologizing profusely. "I hope he understands what I was trying to say."

' _I think Dad takes things a little harder than I do sometimes._ ' Emma gave a small shrug and leaned back against her pillows. She knew that Remus took things much harder than she did, even if he was careful to mask it. ' _He understands. You have to realize that Greyback was the one who turned my dad, so that makes things that much harder._ '

"Greyback was the one who turned Professor Lupin?" Justin asked, climbing into the bed next to Emma.

Emma nodded, leaning her head on Justin's shoulder. ' _Dad was four when he was turned._ '

"He's been a werewolf for that long?"

Emma nodded again, sighing as Justin went to put his arm around her. She winced as his arm dropped right on her shoulder where Fenrir bit her, and she very gingerly moved his arm over. Justin looked at her curiously and turned bright red with understanding.

"I'm so sorry, Emma," he said with wide eyes. "Is that where you were bitten?"

With a grimace, Emma nodded and lifted her sleeve to show her other bite. She held up two fingers to tell Hermione and Justin that it was twice.

"Merlin's beard," Hermione breathed out. "The Prophet didn't mention that part."

"Well, they didn't mention anything about who did it either, so is that really surprising?" Justin said.

' _Where's Ernie?_ ' Emma wrote, looking at Justin curiously.

"Oh," Justin said, "he, uhm…he didn't want to come, so I just Floo-ed over." Emma's face fell slightly, though she expected it after Justin's letter. "Emma, don't. You know how Ernie gets. He means well, he's just…it's the whole pure-blood thing. You know how they get when it comes to anything less than what they are. It's one of those things that's just _there_. It's a miracle that I'm even friends with him, even if he _is_ a Hufflepuff."

Emma knew that, and she knew that well, but it didn't stop her from feeling like she would be an outcast from her own house again. She hated how she felt her second year when everyone decided she wasn't worthy of being a Hufflepuff.

"Oi, don't start now," Justin said firmly. "Where's the Emma Lupin I know? The one that was about ready to kick some arse during Easter hols and secured a wicked win for us Hufflepuffs?" He gave Emma a gentle shake to try and pull her out of her thoughts, and Emma smiled. If she didn't see Justin as her younger brother, she could've seen herself with him, but they were really good friends.

"There she is," Justin said brightly at Emma's smile. "Now, I know you've been completely out of the loop, so let me update you on the Muggle world. Hermione, you better help me with this one."

Half-way through Justin and Hermione telling Emma what movies had been released in the cinema, the ward doors flew open. All three looked up, and Emma frowned when she saw it was Elara looking very much flustered. She had left earlier with her shift ending, and it made Emma worried that she was back.

Elara scanned the room for Remus and frowned when she didn't see him. She made her way to Emma's bed with a tight smile. "Sorry, I don't mean to interrupt, but where's your dad, Emma?" Elara asked quickly, adjusting what looked like the evening edition of the Daily Prophet under her arm.

Emma didn't even have to answer because Remus returned, looking slightly less flustered but bothered all the same. She noticed that Remus appeared to be holding a newspaper under his arm as well. Emma looked between her father and Elara as they locked eyes, passing a silent message to each other. Whatever was in the paper clearly wasn't good, and while Justin was oblivious, Hermione certainly wasn't. Hermione also knew, just like Emma, that both adults' guarded silence meant they weren't going to talk about what was in the paper in front of them.

Remus met Elara at Emma's bedside, schooling his face into something more relaxed as he smiled at the three teenagers. "Enjoying yourselves?" he asked.

"Actually," Hermione said, sitting up straight in her chair, "we were wondering if Emma could come out to the cinema. I know she's in the hospital, but she would be all right for a few hours, wouldn't she?"

Remus looked quick to protest, but Elara was faster. "I think that's a wonderful idea if Emma's up to it," she said, forcing a smile on her face. "I think a few hours out of the hospital and into the…somewhat fresh air would be good. She's been in bed almost the entire time, and right now, she doesn't necessarily need to be here right at this exact moment…"

"Elara, I don't know –" Remus started to say, only stopping when Emma gripped firmly to his shirt sleeve with a pointed look. He regarded Emma for a moment before sighing and giving a half-hearted shrug. "Perhaps it would be a good idea."

"I think that means Emma has given a resounding yes," Elara said, reaching into her robe pocket to pull out her change purse. She handed Emma some money and nodded. "Get dressed and go have fun. Just be back by curfew. There should be just enough to see a film."

Remus looked very unsure of the entire situation and frowned. "Absolutely no wandering into Diagon Alley or anywhere else magical," Remus said pointedly. He pulled out his wand to hand it to Emma, but Elara held her hand up.

"She can use mine for right now," Elara said, passing Emma her wand. "It wouldn't do well to let her out and immediately give her your wand, Remus. Just do a quick Lumos for me, so I know that it works."

Emma hated to admit how much she enjoyed having a wand in her hand again. The magic from Elara's wand was familiar enough that it didn't feel too strange to hold, though the shape was a little awkward for her. She was glad that Lumos was one of the spells that she could cast non-verbally, and she lit the end of Elara's wand with a grin and extinguished it just as fast.

"Good," Elara said. "Now, get ready and go have fun."

It took nearly no time at all for Emma to get ready, but she hesitated as she started to get changed in the bathroom. She frowned at the jeans she grabbed, not realizing her brain automatically went to her favorite pair. As tempted as she was to grab a different pair of jeans, she didn't bother. If she wasn't going to let Fenrir win, she needed to take deliberate steps to move forward, and this was how she was going to do it.

Emma stared at herself in the mirror, taking in her appearance. She still avoided looking at herself when she could, but Luna's words stuck out to her. As much as she liked the loose, French braid Luna put her hair in, she pulled the elastic out and shook her hair out. Emma combed her hair out with her fingers and tilted her head from side to side. Maybe Luna had a point – she did look like she had been on an adventure. If she put on a bit of mascara and eyeliner, she could pull the focus away from her scars, but she would worry about that later.

When the three teenagers set foot outside the hospital, Emma immediately realized two things about their excursion. The first thing was that Hermione was heading in the direction of Diagon Alley. The second was that they weren't alone.

There was one issue with knowing they weren't alone, and it was that Emma wasn't entirely sure who it was. Soleil was on edge, which immediately made her nervous. Maybe she was just paranoid about being out in the world again, but Emma felt unsettled. Could it be Jude? Was it Ellis? Even worse – was it Fenrir himself? She had no idea.

She stopped right in the middle of the busy sidewalk, nearly toppling Justin over as he stopped short. Justin tried to get Emma to move, tugging her hand gently, but she shook her head. Emma's eyes darted around, trying to figure out who was there but seeing nothing in the crowds of people walking by.

"Oi, Hermione!" Justin shouted, forcing Hermione to turn back with an aggravated huff.

"What is it? Don't you want to know what's in the paper?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms and tapping her foot as people walked around them.

Emma frowned, looking around again, and then shook her head. She didn't see anything, so perhaps she just imagined things. It was just the fear of being outside of the hospital and away from Remus. Emma waved Hermione on, and they continued on their way to Diagon Alley.

As tempting as it was to head into the Leaky Cauldron, Emma forced Justin to stay outside the pub with her. Everyone would know who she was if she stepped foot into the wizarding establishment, and she felt safer outside. She planted herself up against the wall, still feeling as though they were followed. Justin prattled on about something Emma was only half paying attention to, and she cast furtive glances around the area. She was determined to figure out who was there, and the less she saw, the more she felt it was Fenrir. He did an excellent job of hiding in the shadows, but then a more pleasant thought crossed her mind. Maybe it was Boris – she did enjoy Boris's company a lot. He wasn't like Fenrir, and despite his bravado, he was shy but very outspoken and had no filter.

Justin commented on how long Hermione was taking to come back when she burst through the pub's front door, looking pale. Emma wondered just how many more people were going to have that reaction.

"It was another werewolf attack," Hermione said quickly, shoving the paper towards Emma to read. "They think it happened the same night as yours, but they only found out about it this morning."

Emma scanned the article quickly, trying to figure out exactly how she felt after her first read. Fenrir smelled so strongly of blood before he bit her, but it never occurred to her that there was a specific reason why. She read the article twice, three times, four times before she handed the paper back to Hermione, feeling numb. Unable to process, Emma pressed her back to the wall and slid down to the ground. This was only going to be the start of what was to come, and she knew it.

Broderick Ward and his entire family were dead, and Emma had no doubt that it was Fenrir's doing.

Whatever presence Emma had been feeling had disappeared while Hermione and Justin tried to figure out what to do. They were arguing with each other, unsure of whether to just go back to the hospital or still go to the cinema. Justin wanted to head back, Hermione insisted that they needed to go just to say they went. Emma, sick of their bickering, found it in herself to speak.

"Just shut up!" Emma shouted, making Hermione and Justin fall silent in surprise. She stood up and brushed off her pants, not thrilled by how painful it was just to say those three words. Deciding it wasn't worth breaking her silence, Emma pulled her pen and paper out of her pocket. ' _Let's just find a coffee shop to go to. My dad's going to know that we were here._ '

"How is he going to know we were here?" Hermione huffed.

Emma just shot Hermione a dark look and shook her head. It would take her far too long to write out the story of Remus finally telling her how he knew she was doing magic outside of school before her second year. It was one of the few times that Remus genuinely got mad at her, and she did not look forward to potentially reliving that same anger.

In the end, they wound up going to see a film anyway. Justin pointed out that the new live-action Flintstones movie came out a few days prior. Though neither girl was really interested, they agreed. It would give them just enough time to make it back to the hospital before curfew, and Emma needed to decompress. At least in the dark theater, people wouldn't be able to look at her.

Like Emma thought, Remus immediately knew that they didn't just go to the cinema and back. Emma expected him to be beyond angry with them, but instead, he was resigned. To her surprise and annoyance, she watched as he held his hand out towards Elara, who deposited a Galleon in his hand. She didn't expect them to make a bet on what she would actually do.

"Sometimes I feel like I need to keep you locked into one room for forever," Remus admitted when Emma got changed back into her pajamas and climbed into bed. "I just want to stick you up in a tower where no one can ever get near you."

' _Just like Rapunzel?_ ' Emma wrote to him with a small grin.

"Just like Rapunzel, but less…"

' _Dark?_ '

"Very much so," Remus chuckled, sitting down next to Emma and putting his arm around her shoulders. "So…we have a lot to talk about."

Hearing that Remus still didn't have a concrete answer on whether she could go home was hard for her to hear. While she expected that, she didn't expect to hear that she had to go back to the children's home the next day.

"I know," Remus said gently, trying to soothe the start of Emma's panic attack. "I know, I know, I know. Right now, I'm trying to look at the positives, and one of them is that we get to go to Diagon Alley on Wednesday, so we're not going to be apart for very long. Just one night apart, and then we're together again. You'll be going with Professor McGonagall just like the first time with the others. If we're lucky, then hopefully you'll get to come right home with me, and I'll push to make it the rest of the holiday."

Emma frowned, leaning into Remus and trying to make sense of everything. She didn't want to go back. It scared her more knowing that Ward wasn't going to be there, which seemed like such a silly thought to have. As much as the man disgusted her, at least she knew what she was dealing with. Who would be in charge now, and how much more dangerous would it be for her? She had nothing to protect herself with, and even one night could be an issue. If Fenrir showed up like he had been doing for the past two weeks, she had no idea what to do. The idea was terrifying in itself.

"You are not leaving here without my wand. I don't care," Remus continued, reading her thoughts and holding onto tightly. "I am not leaving you without a way to protect yourself. I'm sick of the games that the Ministry is playing, and I'm sorry that I didn't just give you my wand at the start. I was too afraid they would find another reason to keep us apart, and I'm so sorry about that. I'm not giving up on you, and I never will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea why, but in my brain, Emma and Justin have this really amazing relationship that I have never written about. Once we get to Hogwarts, expect a lot of new interactions especially with the Tri-Wizard Tournament! It's going to be another chaotic year, but not like the past few. Everyone is growing up, some faster than others...so...it's going to be interesting.
> 
> Side note of side notes, I started a holiday set of one shots that go along with the series. Lots of holiday related moments that are not going to be in any sort of real order. It's titled [A Moonlit Christmas](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27827719/chapters/68127751) \- so please, check it out if you enjoy the series!
> 
> The word counts are going to range from drabbles to ficlets, so you never know what you're going to get. It'll include some missing moments that are prequel related, some moments in the "missing years", and probably some Hogwarts moments. I think it'll be fun, plus it'll be interesting to write more characters, especially my own. I have been wanting to write more about Margaret for forever, so this will be an interesting exercise for me. It's a very niche topic, I know, but I wanted to play and if you enjoy the series, I thought it would be fun. I plan to make everything as fluffy as possible. Plus, I desperately wanted an excuse to write baby Emma.
> 
> **come find me on:**   
>  [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/mymoonyandstars)   
>  [facebook](https://www.facebook.com/mymoonyandstars)   
>  [the moonlit stars discord](https://discord.gg/DtrKMhaTHR)
> 
> [spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/r6xi6203vwza01epk6askwk15?si=t4wwYBERRymTJvw09FJG3Q)  
> 


	19. Third Times the Charm

Emma sat on her bed, nervously waiting for something to happen. Leaving the hospital to go back to Saint Nicholas's felt like an actual nightmare, especially when she was placed back in the same room. Tonks, who had been the one to bring her back, assured her that there would be a sweep done every two hours, but that meant nothing. When it came to Fenrir, it only took seconds for things to change, but at least this time, Emma had a weapon.

It was only mildly reassuring that no one was outside her window when the time came for her door to be locked for the night. She didn't feel anyone's presence lurking outside her window, but she wasn't about to let her guard down. Emma pulled Remus's wand out of her bag and gladly used that to turn her light off and didn't move from her bed. She had no intention of going to sleep.

Having Remus's wand was a small comfort, and she kept her notebook open to talk to him; the light of the moon was enough to read with. They had rekeyed the notebook to work non-verbally and work if she wrote the Marauder's oath in the book, the incantation seeping into the pages and evaporating. It took some effort on Remus's part, but it gave him something to be distracted by. Patches and Bee sat comfortably on her lap as she used Remus's wand to cast nonsense spells just to get a feel for magic again. She was grossly out of practice and the energy needed to cast spells, the combination of her light being out and wearing Remus's borrowed jumper made her tired. If it weren't for the warmth of her bracelet from Remus pressing his charm, she would have fallen asleep sitting up already.

Emma yawned, stretching herself out and trying to wake herself up. She forced her eyes open and nearly jumped out of her skin when she realized eyes were staring at her outside of her window. Her first thought was it was Fenrir, but Fenrir was more likely to have just come in her room already. She growled in aggravation when she processed it was Boris. He was staring at her curiously, and Emma was sorely tempted to hex him, but then he cocked his head to the side, and she couldn't do it. The more time she spent with him, the more she was reminded of a human Golden Retriever.

"Sorry," Boris said after a moment, straightening up from his crouched position. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Emma cast him a reproachful look and gently pressed her bracelet to return Remus's response. Boris stayed where he was, just staring at her, looking unsure. She shot him another look, and he frowned, taking the initiative and climbing into her room.

"Oh my God," Emma said, wincing at how bad it hurt to talk still. Elara said to give it another few days before speaking, but she didn't want to waste time writing.

Boris sat himself down on her floor, crossing his legs and arms in front of his body. "You sound like you've been howling for days," he said, his lips pressing into a thin line as he studied Emma.

"Yes, well, you can thank Fenrir for that one," Emma muttered, trying to keep her voice low. It was much easier to talk at a lower volume. "It's his fault."

"You're one of us now," Boris said, his eyes scanning Emma's face before moving to her shoulder and looking at her exposed bite. "Fenrir's made you his."

"I didn't want this," Emma said sharply. "I don't…I don't want to be Fenrir's."

"Why not?" Boris asked in surprise. "It's an honor to be an Alpha's mate. Fenrir's never taken one before."

"Oh, good," Emma said sharply. "I'm not even of age. Do you know how ridiculous this entire thing sounds?"

"What do you mean?" Boris's eyebrows knit together with his confusion. "You're only a month away from being of age."

Emma's blood ran cold, and she pushed everything on her lap aside and stood up, crossing her arms. She twirled Remus's wand in one hand, studying Boris for any signs that he was lying to her. He wasn't a very good liar, Emma noticed. Boris tried, but his cheeks would turn red anytime he tried to lie to her, and she didn't think that was intentional.

"No, I'm not," Emma said. "I'm only going to be fifteen."

"Which means you'll be of age…"

"No, Boris, it doesn't."

Boris gave her a funny look. "Is that something from your pack? Werewolves are of age at fifteen."

"Buggering fuck," Emma growled.

She closed her eyes tightly with a groan and mentally ran through the list of everyone she was going to kill. Emma was going to start with Fenrir first, of course. Then she would move onto Elara for _not_ telling her, and she would leave Remus last because she loved him even though he kept information from her. That was _very_ crucial information to know and would have been helpful to process earlier. Werewolf culture was much different than typical wizarding culture. It was so deeply rooted in old magic that she had no doubts about Boris's claim. The more she learned, the worse it got.

A long steady stream of swear words left Emma's lips as she paced, and she wanted to scream. She didn't understand how there was so much she didn't know about werewolves when she _lived_ with a werewolf. Emma expected Remus not to tell her certain things, but Elara should have informed her. She was walking a thin line between both worlds, and she only knew bits and pieces of both.

"What's that stick in your hand?" Boris asked her suddenly, pulling Emma out of her thoughts.

"What?"

"That stick…what is that? It keeps sparking."

Emma looked at Remus's wand in her hand. She didn't even realize that she was making sparks as she paced. "This?" Boris nodded, and Emma sighed. He had probably never seen a wand used before. Knowing the adults in the pack couldn't keep their wands, it made sense. Fenrir made it a point to keep his wand hidden as if he were some sort of werewolf god that could manipulate things more than anyone else.

"It's a wand," she explained. "You use it for magic."

" _That's_ a wand? What can you do with it?"

"Almost anything you can think of…" Boris looked at her expectantly, and Emma felt terrible. "I can't show you, mate. It's my Dad's, and I'm not even supposed to have it right now."

"Oh, okay," Boris said sadly. "Well, that's all right."

Emma felt guilty not showing Boris, but maybe she could the next night if he came back. He was magical too. "Boris, where is Fenrir?" Emma finally asked, sitting back down on her bed.

"He's doing something, but I don't know what," Boris responded after a few moments. "Why? Do you want him here?"

"Boris, I will actually kill you if you have Fenrir come here," Emma snarled, grimacing at his shocked expression. "Sorry, I just wanted to make sure I could go to bed without being bothered. I'm heading out early tomorrow."

"Oh," Boris said in surprise. "Where are you going?"

"Just out for the day, but we're traveling like Muggles," Emma said, writing a quick note to Remus say that she was going to try and go to bed. "Someone is going to come checking around here all through the night, so do yourself a favor and hide. I would hate for you to get caught. Do you know how to read time?"

"Of course."

"Good. Someone is going to come wake me up around 5, so be out before then," Emma said, throwing Patches and Bee under one arm and holding tight to Remus's wand under her pillow. "Honestly, you could just leave."

"Fenrir's orders are that I stay. He said you would try to make me leave."

"Of course, he did," Emma grumbled. She sighed as she got herself comfortable and met Boris's gaze. "Boris was Fenrir out yesterday by any chance?"

"No," Boris said, "he was with the pack all day. Why?"

"No reason," Emma frowned as she thought about the presence she felt. If it wasn't Fenrir, who was it? "Good night, Boris."

Emma's dream was somehow the weirdest dream she had ever had, and she blamed Brennan for playing Beetlejuice that past Friday. She was dressed in some semblance of Lydia's red wedding dress with Fenrir wearing Beetlejuice's tuxedo. The officiant was a wolf that somehow could speak English, and Remus, Elara, and Sirius were the unwilling witnesses. It felt like a cruel joke that a sandworm didn't come through to eat Fenrir. At least then her dream would have been funny.

She was surprised that Boris had been the one to wake her up at quarter to five. Emma shot him an annoyed look, and he gave her a lopsided grin. "Heard voices and thought you'd want to get up earlier if it's a long trip," he said. "I'm going to leave and wait for Fenrir. You'll be fine, right?"

Emma waved Boris off and shoved her head under her pillow. She wanted to sleep in longer, but he poked her side until she sat up.

"You're already up; might as well stay up," he said with a shrug. He gave Emma a small wave and jumped out of her window. Where he actually went, Emma had no idea.

With a groan, Emma stretched, muttering under her breath. She supposed that Boris had a point. She reached down to the floor to pull her bag up onto her lap to find the potions Elara sent her back with. Elara still wanted to maintain Emma's pain relief, and while the scratches on her face didn't hurt, her bites still did.

She tried to force herself out of bed but only got as far as placing Remus's wand back in her bag and pulling out her outfit for the day. Emma had practically begged Remus for one of his button-down shirts just so that she could cover herself up more. The necks of his jumpers were too wide, and her clothes were all too scratchy. He just sighed and went through his overnight bag and gave her whatever she asked for.

"I'm starting to think that I'm going to be the one who needs an entirely new wardrobe instead of you," Remus told her with a soft smile. Emma had nodded happily in agreement.

Emma was in the process of just lying back down when there was a soft knock at her door. She looked up as the door opened, and she was happy to see it was Mrs. Bryce again. The woman gave her a sad smile as she studied Emma's face.

"I'm glad you're up, dear," she said lightly. "And I'm glad you'll still be joining Professor McGonagall today. I know the children are excited about it."

All Emma could manage was a nod, her face heating up. She opened her mouth to speak, but Mrs. Bryce shook her head.

"I know that you're meant to be on vocal rest right now, dear. Everyone will be meeting in the entryway in forty-five minutes, but Professor McGonagall will be here in fifteen. She'll be waiting in the reception room for the time being."

Emma nodded again, finally getting up to get ready. Deciding to test her theory, Emma applied mascara and some eyeliner. She looked at herself appraisingly in the mirror and nearly burst into laughter when she took in her entire appearance. Wearing Remus's button-down and a pair of jeans with her boots made her look like the much cooler version of her father.

She was flipping through one of the books Hermione had brought her when McGonagall entered the reception room. Emma very slowly lifted her gaze to meet Professor McGonagall's eyes, suddenly nervous. She took in McGonagall's appearance first, a small smile crossing her face at how very Gryffindor her outfit looked. McGonagall was wearing a long dress with half sleeves in a brilliant scarlet with a golden flower print.

"Good morning, Miss Lupin," Professor McGonagall said warmly. "It feels almost like the first time I brought you to Diagon Alley all over again. I never expected that we would be making the trip together again."

Emma gave McGonagall a look to suggest she thought the same thing. McGonagall gave her a quick once over and nodded. Emma was grateful that she didn't focus on her scars at all.

"I fear that there may have been a slight clerical error when sending you this year's supply list," McGonagall said, reaching into her purse and pulling out an envelope. Emma stood up from where she sat to walk up to Professor McGonagall. With a confused look, Emma took the envelope from McGonagall, and her stomach did a happy little flip, and tears sprung to her eyes.

_Emma Lupin  
Lupin Cottage_

_Upper Helmsley, York_

"Of course, if Black needed to be added, that's doable," McGonagall said. "We weren't entirely sure if you would remain a Lupin, or if your name would be hyphenated, or even if you decided to be a Black. I've been told that's your choice to make."

Emma looked up at McGonagall in surprise and back down to her envelope. She wasn't sure how many people knew about Sirius and Remus, and Emma was glad that someone else knew. She worried her lip between her teeth and let out a slightly watery laugh, pointing to the envelope to show that Lupin was fine. That was all she wanted to be because that's who she was at the end of the day. Sirius never wanted her to take the Black name, insisting he would take Remus's name if they got married. Emma Lupin was perfect.

Emma couldn't help but throw her arms around McGonagall for a hug and immediately froze when she had realized what she had done. She pulled back quickly, her face flushing with embarrassment. It felt so inappropriate, but she was so happy that someone else was treating her like normal.

McGonagall was quiet for a moment before pulling Emma back to her in a gentle hug, cradling Emma's head to her shoulder. "I think my boys would be disappointed if you didn't get to call me Aunt Minerva during the summer," she said gently, the hint of a smile in her voice as she kissed the top of Emma's head. "Besides, none of your friends would ever believe this."

Emma immediately burst into laughter, allowing herself to be held close. She liked the idea of Aunt Minerva, and she allowed herself to embrace the idea of it for just a moment. Professor McGonagall was right – no one would ever believe her if she told them.

Somehow, Emma managed to sleep the entire way to King's Cross station. She had no idea how she managed to sleep when Raewyn and Brennan were talking excitedly. Only Finn was quiet, and Emma's last thought before drifting off was how odd that was.

She practically skipped to the Leaky Cauldron, knowing that she would get to spend the day with her father. The moment they set foot into the pub, Emma's eyes roved around for Remus, and she gave a squeal of delight the moment she saw him. Emma didn't care that she had seen him just twelve hours prior, she ran right into his arms, practically knocking him over.

"Well, good morning to you, too," Remus laughed, squeezing Emma tightly.

She pulled away and dragged Remus back over to the group so introductions could be made. Emma happily kept herself tucked into Remus's side even as the three eleven-year-olds stared at them. She knew how they looked, and it must have been odd to look at them together.

Raewyn seemed determined to believe that Remus wasn't a werewolf at all after deeming him as not scary. Emma had to turn her face into Remus's chest to keep herself from laughing too hard as the other two agreed. Her laugh died out when Finn mentioned that Remus looked nothing like the scary werewolf that was always around the children's home. She looked at Finn with curiosity while Remus and McGonagall looked shocked.

"The scary werewolf?" Remus asked curiously.

Finn nodded, shuffling her feet nervously. "The one that got Emma," she said quietly. "I noticed that he was still around even when Emma was away…"

Remus glanced over at McGonagall over Emma's head, and he gave Finn a reassuring smile. "Well, he won't be a problem for that much longer," he said, keeping his tone level. Finn nodded and tried to smile back. It was very wishful thinking, Emma thought.

Just like when McGonagall took Emma to Diagon Alley the first time, they went through the pub's back entrance to enter the shopping area. When McGonagall asked Remus to do the honors of opening the entryway, his face turning the same color as the brick wall. Remus turned to Emma, biting back a grin, and Emma cast McGonagall a sheepish grin as she opened her bag. Professor McGonagall only looked slightly surprised as she regarded the two of them as Remus took his wand back.

"Really?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at the two of them. "Dare I ask how frequently you two snuck around the castle as if you were _both_ students?"

"I wouldn't ask at all," Remus admitted.

A genuine smile threatened to find its way to Emma's lips. If only McGonagall knew the things they actually got up to when the castle was asleep. The nights they spent with the Marauder's Map were brilliant, and she hoped that Harry would want to go on adventures that year. They had a legacy to live up to, and her heart ached to remember that Remus wouldn't be joining them.

"Merlin's beard," McGonagall said, pinning Emma with one of her sharp stares. "I will be keeping a close eye on you this year, Miss Lupin."

McGonagall and Remus went over their respective plans for the day. It was decided they would all go to Ollivander's first. McGonagall had already retrieved money for the new first years, and Remus didn't need to stop at Gringotts. The trio was overjoyed to finally get their wands, and Emma was excited to have her own wand again.

Emma enjoyed watching the faces of the trio as they walked through Diagon Alley. She wondered if she looked that excited her first time, and she happily hugged Remus's arm the entire way to Ollivanders. Their energy was infectious.

Ollivander was at the front of the shop when they entered, and a disappointed look crossed his face the moment he saw Emma and Remus. His face brightened slightly when he saw the three first years, but he turned back to Emma first.

"Do I want to know what happened this time?" he asked, making Emma turn red.

"Er," Remus reached into the inside pocket of his blazer to pull out Emma's wand, which she looked at sadly. "Her wand was snapped – not by her own hand."

Ollivander stared hard at Emma, and she immediately curled in on herself. She didn't like that she was pulling such an expression from the wizard and only relaxed when he let out a dejected sigh.

"You'll need an entirely new wand since the core is exposed," he said. "You won't be the first, and you certainly won't be the last that I see in such a short amount of time. Now, are we fitting you with something new, or will you be giving me a new challenge?"

Emma immediately froze, unsure of what to do. A new wand would be fine, but before she could even try to suggest it to Remus, he answered, "I think a new challenge."

It was a good thing that Emma was familiar with the process. She was pleased to find that her Phoenix feather core decided she was still worthy of keeping it. Stupid jokes popped up in her head about being reborn after everything she went through, but she chose to keep them to herself. Emma didn't need her father telling Dr. Wheeler about her penchant to delve into dark humor again.

The process of finding the right wand combination moved a lot faster than the year before. Emma was surprised that her final three woodblocks came down to cedar like her first wand, maple, and rowan. Emma had liked the maple the previous year, but once again, that was not a match. The cedar and rowan seemed to keep battling it out for Emma's attention, but ultimately, the cedar block won out. It had jumped over to Ollivander by itself as if asking to be made into a new wand.

"Fascinating," Ollivander said as he inspected the block of wood. "Mr. Lupin, your wand is made of cypress, yes?"

"It is," Remus said.

Ollivander's gaze turned to Emma, and she fought hard to keep her expression neutral. Every trip to the wandmaker felt like he was trying to read her mind with his stare.

"Well, this particular block comes from a white cedar tree, which is commonly known as a false cypress," Ollivander explained. "While the woods are very different, I can appreciate the wand's message for Miss Lupin. As your core has maintained its allegiance with you over the years, I pity whoever finds themselves at the other end of your wand if you find yourself in a duel. However, I see great strength in healing those who need it most. I'll have your wand ready later this afternoon."

Emma nodded and cast her father a look the moment Ollivander silently dismissed them to assist the new first years.

"What do you say," Remus whispered to her, "shall we make a quick stop to Flourish and Blotts? They can show you their wands later."

She could never pass up a trip to the bookstore and gladly took her father's hand. Flourish and Blotts always held a soft spot in Emma's heart. She adored the bookstore, loved the smell of old books, and liked to see what strange magical books existed.

A giggle escaped her lips when she noticed a massive sign saying they refused to carry _The Monster Book of Monsters_. Hagrid's book had really made quite an impression on the shopkeepers. They looked around the store together, picking up the only book she needed that year. Emma pointed at a book on Divination made a face as she spotted it.

"Oh," Remus said. "Would now be a good time to tell you that you're not taking Divination this year?"

Emma's mouth fell open, and she grabbed onto her father's arm, a hesitant smile crossing her face. She reached into her pocket to pull out her paper and pen to scrawl out a quick, ' _What are you talking about?_ '

"Well, when Professor Dumbledore sent me over the list of names I needed to write final notes for, I also sent back the form I signed to withdraw you from the course. Since I signed the form while still employed, Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall accepted it. I can see you look absolutely gutted by the news," he teased.

After Flourish and Blotts, they met everyone back in the Magical Menagerie. The new first years were very excited by the idea of having pets. They wanted to look early so they could spend their day deciding on what animal they wanted to bring to Hogwarts. Emma walked around the store aimlessly, delighting in looking around and being surrounded by animals. She was peering at snakes when a small black blur ran past her and leaped at her.

"Kitty," Emma breathed out as a very hairy black kitten landed on her shoulder. The single word was painful for her to say, but it just popped out of her with her surprise. Talking to Boris had been a terrible idea for her to do, and she was paying for it dearly, but she was excited.

Remus whirled around so fast to look at her that Emma swore he would break his neck. He stared at her in wonder, surprised that she had said anything at all, and then his expression softened. "It is," he said, making his way back over to her. "Take it easy with talking. You're not meant to be saying a word just yet," Remus added.

The cat rubbed its furry face on Emma's. It was mildly painful as her scars were sensitive, but Emma loved it. She had grown used to cats running away, and this one came right to her.

"She's pretty," Emma said quietly, scratching behind the cat's ears and beaming as it purred. She had just become completely smitten by the furball, and it nearly broke her heart when she realized she couldn't take it with her.

"She is," Remus said lightly, holding his hand out for the cat to sniff. He was surprised when the cat eagerly butt her head into his hand for head scratches. Remus looked between the cat and Emma and hummed thoughtfully. "Not only does she have the same color eyes as you, apparently she has your personality. How many times have you done exactly this to get my attention?"

Emma gave her father a good-natured glare and gave the cat a good look. It did, in fact, share the same color eyes, and it broke her heart further. "I love her," Emma said sadly, and she truly meant it. Something about the cat resonated with her, a sense of wholeness that she didn't know could exist. Could people find soul pets? Was this cat meant to be hers? If it was, it was such a painful reminder of the wrong place, wrong time.

"What would you name her?" Remus asked curiously.

There was no hesitation when Emma immediately said, "Figaro."

"Figaro?" Remus asked in amusement. "Like from the Disney movie you had me watch with you?" Emma nodded fervently, and he chuckled. "I believe Figaro was a boy and had white patches," he said gently. "And this little one is a girl."

"She's a cat," Emma pointed out, looking at said cat thoughtfully. "Fig for short." A pained look crossed Emma's face, and she lifted her hand to rub at her neck.

"Just take it easy," Remus said, gently pulling the kitten off Emma's shoulder to place it in her arms. "It's been nearly a week since you've said a word. It's going to –"

"Take time," Emma finished with a sad smile as she held the kitten close. "I know."

Remus watched Emma with the kitten for a few minutes, a plan already brewing in his mind. Emma looked entirely at peace with the cat in her arms, gently running her fingers through its fur. The moment Emma's eyes closed, and she held the cat closer so she could rest her cheek against its head, he knew that he was in trouble. He had to buy the cat for her.

"I'll be right back," Remus said to Emma, who cracked open her eyes to cast him a nervous look. "I'm just going to go talk to Professor McGonagall for a moment. I'm not going far – I promise."

Emma's eyes followed Remus to make sure he was going exactly where he said he would before she finally relaxed. She turned her attention back to the cat in her arms, a smile crossing her face as the cat rubbed its head underneath her chin. If he didn't make his decision already, that would have done it.

"I see you find yourself with a quandary, Mr. Lupin," McGonagall said with a knowing look as she regarded Remus.

"I haven't heard back on where Emma's can come home," Remus said quietly, glancing back at Emma. "And as you can see, I do not have the heart to separate the two of them. I think the cat enjoys Emma as much as Emma loves the cat. I know they offer boarding, but I would much rather be able to take the cat home today. I'd prefer to know that no matter what, Emma will have a constant companion."

"You worry she'll be placed somewhere that won't let her have a cat?"

"That's the basic gist of things, yes," Remus admitted. "I will do absolutely anything to keep that smile on her face, and I know she's been lonely. It's also –"

"Very rare to find a cat that can handle being around a werewolf," McGonagall said. "I know that all too well." McGonagall watched Emma and the cat for a moment. "Why don't you send Emma off with the other three to Fortescue's, buy her the cat, and we'll head to the Ministry and get some answers. We'll figure out what to do with her new friend after if we have to."

Remus hesitated at the idea. "Every time I leave her, something happens," he said quietly.

"You can't think like that, Remus," McGonagall said, putting a hand on Remus's arm. "She'll be fine."

Remus returned to Emma, who frowned at him when he held his hands out for the kitten. Emma sighed, depositing the cat in her father's hands.

"Why don't you take Finn, Raewyn, and Brennan over to Fortescue's?" Remus suggested, petting the cat's head. "It's a hot day, and I'm sure they wouldn't be opposed to ice cream. It'll be my treat."

Emma frowned slightly, looking at the trio who were marveling over what looked like to be an enormous spider. "I don't know," she said quietly, shifting from foot to foot. "I don't want to take any more of your money…"

"Emma, sweetheart, we have gone over this nearly a million times," Remus sighed. "I don't need you to worry about my finances, love. I can assure you that four ice creams won't be an issue."

"I know, but –"

"No, I don't want to hear it," Remus said firmly. He nodded down to the right pocket of his blazer. "Take a few Galleons with you, treat yourself and your new little friends."

Emma sighed, reaching into Remus's pocket to take a few Galleons. She huffed out a laugh when he bent down so she could kiss his cheek. "Thank you," she said. She gave the cat a final scratch behind the ears with a longing look and retrieved the other three.

Rather than use all of her father's money, she let the trio pick out ice cream, passing on something for herself. As much as she would like ice cream, she didn't need it, and she was happy to just listen to Finn, Raewyn, and Brennan talk. They all showed her their new wands, and Emma admitted she was excited to see what her new wand would look like. Brennan was in the middle of telling Emma something he saw as they were walking around when she heard someone call her name.

"Emma!"

Emma twisted in her seat and immediately tensed up just as Persephone froze where she was. The two stared at each other, mouths falling open in surprise.

"Who's that?" Finn asked, poking Emma's arm.

"I, uh…a friend, I think," Emma muttered. "You three stay right here and enjoy your ice cream. I'll be, uh…I'll be right back."

Emma stood up and grabbed Persephone's hand to pull her far enough away from the trio. She frowned at Persephone, opening and closing her mouth several times as Persephone took a good look at her.

"Effie," Emma said suddenly. "Uhm…what are you doing?"

Persephone continued to study Emma's face with a frown. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I wanted to come and say hi, but this... This wasn't…I didn't…" Persephone scrubbed her hands down her face, covering her mouth as she shook her head. "None of this was ever supposed to happen. Your _face_ …"

"You tried," Emma said, rubbing her arm. "He wasn't exactly secretive about what he planned to do with me. I don't know why I thought he didn't really mean it."

"And he bit you?"

"Twice, actually."

"Twice?" Persephone's eyes grew wide. " _Twice_? Once wasn't enough?"

Emma nodded, pulling back her sleeve to show Persephone. "Decided he wanted me to match Dad," she said with a sigh.

"And the other?" Persephone asked. Emma pulled aside her collar to show the start of the second bite. " _Merlin's saggy tits_."

"That one hurts the worst, but the one on my arm doesn't hurt as much. Dad's been really good about helping me find clothes to wear. Clearly, because I'm wearing his shirt…again," Emma said, rubbing the back of her neck. "I've really taken over his wardrobe, I think. Dad and Elle want to take me out to pick out some more clothes, especially since most of my jeans don't fit."

"Yeah, because you've got these hips all of a sudden," Persephone said, gently tapping Emma's hips. She looked at Emma in alarm when she flinched. "Emma?"

"He, uh…well, it's better to show you," Emma said, twisting herself and pulling back the waistband of her jeans to show Persephone what Fenrir had done. "Both sides."

"Emma, I –"

"He's the least of my worries," Emma said, cutting Persephone off. She wasn't entirely sure that she believed herself. "I'm more worried about Jude, right now, I think."

Persephone nodded, looking pale. "Dad's been meeting him."

"Jude?"

"He's staying at your old house in Wales," Persephone said. "That's where they meet when they're not at mine, but you obviously didn't hear that from me."

"What are they planning?"

"I don't know because they don't come to my place anymore," Persephone said with a frown. "I've met with Fenrir, unfortunately, but that's it."

"Does Fenrir know about the last letter you wrote to me?"

"No, I don't believe he does. He just knows that Dad saw Duke. Dad couldn't find any evidence of me writing to you."

"That's because I kept your letter with me," Emma said.

An awkward silence fell between the two as they tried to figure out what to say next. It was difficult for Emma to keep her emotions level, but she needed to. She had so many questions for Persephone, especially knowing more of the situation now. After being clueless for so long, she finally had leverage in her predicament.

"Persephone, I really don't understand what you're doing right now," Emma said. "I don't…with everything that's happened with us and _knowing_ that we were friends for so long. I don't understand _this_ right now. Why are you helping now? Why did you start?"

"I know," Persephone said sadly. "Our friendship started because Fenrir wanted you to be familiar with someone your age. It was never…what it became wasn't what it was supposed to be. You were never actually supposed to go to Hogwarts, but then you got your letter anyway. It was decided that Fenrir was going to take you and raise you…entirely human."

"So me getting my letter changed everything? That was what kept me from being turned?"

Persephone nodded. "And so I got dragged into things. I never…I only ever did what I was asked to do. They all promised me that it was to help you. I never realized how much I was hurting you…until Jude almost won."

"Did you know about my memories, then?"

"Yes and no. I didn't realize that it was a whole thing," Persephone said quickly when Emma scoffed in disbelief. "Emma, I know that you probably don't believe me, but I swear I'm telling you the truth."

Emma was about to respond when the entrance bell echoed in the ice cream parlor. Both girls tensed up as Persephone's mother entered the building, struggling with the bags in her hands. "I have been looking all over for you, Persephone. It's a wonder that I saw you talking with your friend through the window," Sage said, not looking up from the bags she was readjusting. "You just ran off without a word, and I –" Sage immediately trailed off when she finally looked up and noticed who Persephone was actually with.

Hullo," Emma said. She didn't blame Sage for looking so surprised when her back was to the windows.

Sage swallowed hard, looking between Persephone and Emma. "I'm very aware that you know what's been going on even if my husband doesn't realize that you understand. I know it won't matter much, but I am so sorry," Sage said softly.

The situation only grew worse when the bell tinkled again, and Remus entered the ice cream parlor shortly after Sage. Remus's eyes darkened, and his lips pressed into a thin line as he spotted Emma with Persephone and Sage. He was swift to make his way over and put his arm protectively around Emma's shoulders, pulling her close.

"Remus, I understand what things look like, but you don't understand –" Sage started to say before Remus cut her off.

"What I understand is that your husband has been working with Greyback," Remus said with a growl.

"I never wanted to be a part of it," Sage said sharply.

"And yet you're equally as guilty. You've known this entire time, and now look at what's happened."

"If I had realized –"

"You should have known right from the start. And to think that _your_ daughter has been dragged into this, too?"

"Daddy," Emma whispered, "not now, please. Not here."

"Emma, this –"

"Daddy, please stop," Emma said, looking over her shoulder at Finn, Raewyn, and Brennan. She took in the looks of the other customers, who looked less than pleased to see them both.

"We'll go," Sage said, with another look at Emma. "Your daughter is right. Now isn't the time, but you have to understand I didn't want any of this."

"Make sure that Jude is aware that Emma is _my_ daughter," Remus said tightly. "If he even thinks of trying to harm her again, I will make sure it's the last thing he does."

Remus and Emma made their way back to the table to join the first years. Remus sat with his arms folded, his expression unreadable as he answered Raewyn's curious questions. She had so many questions for both Emma and Remus, and they answered them politely. It was nice to talk freely about magic, and for a brief moment, Emma reconsidered the idea of working at the Ministry. She liked the idea of being a professor sometimes, but she didn't think she could ever do the job justice.

"Everything is all taken care of, Remus," McGonagall said when she finally joined them all at Fortescue's. "You will be bringing Emma back?"

"Of course," Remus said. "There are a few things that I'd still like to get done."

McGonagall looked between Emma and Remus for a moment trying to understand their expressions. She gathered the other three children, ushering them out with fond farewells. The moment they departed, Remus sighed, moving his chair next to Emma's and pulling her into his side. A sudden frown crossed his face as he looked at Emma.

"Did you finish your ice cream already?"

"Er, no…" Emma said quietly. "Didn't get one."

"What? Well, that just won't do. I told you to get something, now come on."

They decided on a chocolate, vanilla, and raspberry mixture to share. They couldn't decide on a single flavor and decided to get all three.

Emma handed the spoon to Remus first when she took in his furrowed brow as they sat back down. "Eat," she said, with a small smile, "you'll feel better."

Remus's expression softened, and he took a large spoonful of ice cream. "You know, I don't like it when you use my own words against me. It's dangerous."

"I live for danger," Emma said, waggling her eyebrows and taking the spoon back from Remus to take her own heaping spoonful of ice cream.

"Yes, and that's what terrifies me," Remus admitted, pulling a smile from Emma in response. His smile fell slightly when he noticed Emma slowly closing in on herself. "What is it? You're thinking too loud."

"I'm just thinking about how much I miss this," Emma said after a long pause, taking another spoonful of ice cream. She passed the spoon back over to her father and took a look around the room. Customers kept casting them furtive glances, some pulling their children closer if their gazes moved in their direction. "And I don't particularly like the weird stares."

"Hmm, yes, the staring is…it's a bit much," Remus admitted as he took a look. "You know you're going to get it when you're back at school?"

"I know, but I'll have had more time to get used to, well, me," Emma said. "Can we…can we leave? I don't like it."

"Yes, of course," Remus said. He looked at the cup of half-eaten ice cream, and a smile crossed his face. "Did you want me to take that home for you so you can have it tomorrow night?"

"No," Emma said. "There's no point if I can't have it."

"Emma, listen to me – do you want me to take that home for you so you can have it tomorrow night?"

Emma was confused as she tried to process what Remus was trying to say. "I don't understand," she said, trying to talk through what he said. "You asked me if I…oh! Wait, no. Do you mean –?"

"We have almost three weeks together," Remus confirmed, beaming at Emma's excited smile. "I know it's not all summer – yet, but things have been moved around. I told you that I wasn't giving up."

"I really get to come home? The approval came through?"

"You get to come home tomorrow night. Professor McGonagall and I snuck off to get more information, and she, er, might have bullied them into approving the move. It means that you'll have to go back for one more night, and I have to fill out some paperwork, but then you get to come home. So, I want you to think about everything you want to do because we're going to do it. Even if that means you're going to torture me and make me take you to Alton Towers, after all. If we're lucky, then hopefully this entire ordeal will be over with sooner rather than later."

It was very difficult for Emma to not be in incredibly high spirits as they made their way back to Ollivander's. She was going to get to go home, and her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. She could handle one more night in the children's home – that meant nothing.

Ollivander was waiting for them when they returned to the shop. He opened the box for her wand as they approached the counter, and he pulled the wand, presenting it to Emma, handle first. "11 ¾ inches and slightly springy," Ollivander explained. "Of course, with cedar and your Phoenix feather core."

Her wand was beautiful, and Emma missed the familiar thrum of magic beneath her fingers. She had hoped that the hawthorn from her last wand would have been inlaid into the cedar, but she was glad that it wasn't. Emma adored the white wood and was delighted to see that Ollivander left most of it alone.

The bottom of her wand was very similar to her last wand but had more of a teardrop shape rather than circular. It was stained dark at the bottom and blended in an ombre pattern into the white wood. Her wand went up into its point almost in a straight line except for the engraved helix that started just before the wand's halfway point, spiraling upward for an inch and a half. Small vertical notches were etched in the wood that separated the engraved twists and added to the wand's beauty. It was simple, but it was perfect.

"You know, we'll have to make another stop at the Menagerie before we head back," Remus said with a sigh as they left Ollivander's.

"Why? Don't we only need to go to Eeylops to get things for Aurora?"

"No, there's someone that we need to pick up before we leave."

Emma took in the cheeky smile on her father's face. He didn't say _something_ ; he very specifically said _someone_. "Daddy, you _didn't_ ," she said, her voice breaking. "Did you buy me Fig?"

"Oh, I most definitely did," Remus said, pulling Emma into a tight hug. "You deserve her and so much more, love. I refuse to let you be alone again. While I don't know how long things will take, things have a funny way of working out in the end."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got sent down the rabbit hole of that Artbreeder site, and I have literally spent a good week sitting and making characters from the story. If you're curious to know what everyone looks like, I've got a _"super secret"_ link with everyone I've made so far. Someone over on FF.net asked me who I visualize Fenrir and Elara as, and I realized I had no idea. I was very happy when this site was brought to my attention because I've been having _way too much fun_. I struggle to keep a consistent visual while drawing everyone myself, so I like having "real" versions of them to look at. Hopefully you do, too.
> 
> I started to share these on Discord, and shared pretty much all of my unedited versions on Twitter, but I decided to put them all in one spot. So, click on through if you want to see how I see everyone.
> 
> [Character Renders](https://mymoonyandstars.tumblr.com/moonlitcharacters)
> 
> Also, if you're curious and because _I_ was curious, I drew Emma's wand (with an Ollivander certificate because I'm EXTRA).
> 
>   
> **come find me on:**  
> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/mymoonyandstars)  
> [facebook](https://www.facebook.com/mymoonyandstars)  
> [the moonlit stars discord](https://discord.gg/DtrKMhaTHR)
> 
> [spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/r6xi6203vwza01epk6askwk15?si=t4wwYBERRymTJvw09FJG3Q)  
> 


	20. Power Struggles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Fenrir is his own warning** \- expect nothing and everything.

Emma didn't care too much that Remus had to drop her off at Saint Nicholas's, and she even welcomed it. She couldn't be happier about the fact that she was only stuck in the children's home for just a little over twelve hours more. At nine in the morning, Remus would be coming back to meet with Mrs. Bryce to sign paperwork, and they were going home. It felt so much better than the first time she got to leave.

"You promise that you're finally going to tell me everything? You _swear_ that I won't get to learn ridiculous information from another werewolf?" Emma asked, still entirely unwilling to let go of Remus and go back into the building. She felt funny standing outside of the home with Remus, never wanting to subject him to what her life was like at Saint Nicholas's.

"Yes, I promise," Remus sighed, pressing multiple kisses to the top of her head. "I don't think I need to be on the receiving end of your wand again," he said, a hint of a smile in his voice. "You are a terrifying opponent, love."

"Good," Emma said, squeezing Remus tighter. "I want to be terrifying."

Remus chuckled, leaning back so he could take Emma's face between his hands. "You are indeed a force to be reckoned with, my ferocious little badger," he said fondly.

"I'm not a lion today?" Emma said with a pout.

"You are _always_ a lion, but no one ever expects the fierceness of a badger, and you, my dear, have plenty of it."

It was enough to pull a pleased smile to Emma's face that only grew when Remus leaned down to kiss her forehead. She pulled her face out of Remus's hands to melt back into his embrace. With a sigh, she turned her head to stare at the front doors of the children's home.

"When I leave, I _never_ want to set foot back here again," Emma said quietly. "I want to leave and forget it entirely…as if this was never a part of my life."

"And you will," Remus said, pressing more kisses to the top of Emma's head and pulling away. "Now go. Morning will come before you know it."

Emma looked between Remus and the door of Saint Nicholas's with a frown. She grabbed onto his hand, dreading the moment he had to leave. "You know, a part of me always found it silly…the sun," she added when Remus looked at her questioningly. "I think I'm finally starting to understand…"

Remus sighed, tugging Emma back into his arms. "Oh, Emma Hope, you never cease to know how to break my heart over and over again," Remus murmured.

"Sorry," Emma said with a watery giggle.

"Don't apologize. Just one more night, and then we can put all of this aside for now."

Having her own wand was a small comfort, and she kept it tucked away. The moment she was in the confines of her room, she changed into her softest t-shirt and threw on a cardigan, tucking her wand inside the front. A part of her was tempted to change out of her jeans, but she didn't want to make things easy. There were no guarantees on who her visitor would be that night, but at least she was better prepared.

Emma didn't bother leaving her light on and shut it off even before her door was locked for the night. She felt it was stupid that they still kept the door locked, considering everything that had happened, but Emma wasn't going to fight it. There was just one more night left, and that's what she chose to focus on. She would have one final night on her own with no Aurors running checks of the building. Emma would have to manage on her own no matter what.

She needed something to do, and she dumped the contents of her bag out on the bed. Clothes, books, and a mixture of different food items fell out onto the mattress, and Emma sighed. After her stay in St. Mungo's, everything had been thrown into her bag haphazardly, and it showed. Everything came out as a pure mess, and it was a wonder she was able to pack anything from Diagon Alley away.

"And this is why Dad's the one who packs," Emma muttered under her breath, rubbing the back of her neck. It was a fact that she desperately needed Remus's excellent organization skills to pack her things. She had a tendency of just shoving things into her bags, and she grimaced at how much of a mess her trunk was before leaving school. In her anxiety over Remus resigning, she just gave up entirely on packing her things to make sure everything for home was correctly packed. Emma wondered if Remus had unpacked for her or if all of her things sat in her trunk, just as messy as she remembered.

She was in the middle of folding clothes when she heard a thud and a low, "Ow." Emma couldn't help but smile knowing who her companion was one last time.

"You know, you're not a very elegant werewolf sometimes, Boris," Emma said, looking over her shoulder to see Boris sitting up on the floor. "Are you _sure_ that you're one of the best?"

"I am absolutely one of the best," Boris huffed, folding his arms and stretching his legs out. "You try getting through the window over a bush."

"I don't know why you don't just climb over the dresser," Emma said pointedly. "It's not as though you'd be disturbing anything if you did."

Boris shrugged. "It's faster to go over the bush."

Emma couldn't help her laugh, and she dug through the things she still had on her bed. She had asked Remus to bring her a few things from home after dropping off their ice cream from Fortescue's in the hopes Boris would visit. "I have something to show you," Emma said, reaching for the pile of photographs that Fenrir himself had given her months prior. There were a few that had her and Boris in them, along with Persephone. She wondered if it would jog his memory to see them. "Do you remember me at all?"

"No," Boris said, shaking his head. He pushed himself along the floor to lean against the wall beneath the window. "I know you've said I should, but I don't. It's just your scent that's familiar."

"I thought so," Emma said, sitting down next to him. "Sometimes, I forget that I don't look like how I used to." She shuffled through the photos to find one of just her and Boris hugging each other and held it towards him. "That's us when we were younger."

Boris looked at the photo curiously and then at Emma, and then back at the picture. "That's you?" he asked, not quite believing it. He took the photo from Emma's hand and held it up to compare Emma in the image to Emma in the present. "Emma?" he asked in disbelief. "This is…but you don't…this isn't you. You're a completely different person."

"I know," Emma said quietly, flipping through the photos. "But that's me."

" _Emma?_ " Boris repeated, not believing that the red-haired girl in the photo was the same person sitting next to him. "What happened? Why don't you look like this anymore?"

A small smile crossed her face as she leaned over to rest her head on Boris's shoulder. "I finally found out where I truly belong," she said. "I'm just sorry that I lost a few people along the way, but as a very dear friend told me, the things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end."

A companionable silence fell until Boris turned his head to shove his nose into Emma's hair to smell her. She tried to stop herself from giggling, but it was impossible to stop with how intent he was sniffing her. There were just certain things that she was never going to get used to, and Boris's not so subtle sniffing was one of them.

"You _smell_ like you," Boris said after a moment, poking Emma's sides with a lopsided grin. "But you really do not look like you. How do I know you're not telling me a lie?"

"Because I remember you kissing the other girl in the photos," Emma said. "You decided to kiss Persephone for whatever reason, and we both ran off. You cried."

"Did not," Boris huffed.

"Did too," Emma said, flipping to another photo to show him. "You cried, and Fenrir thought it was funny. He said one day girls wouldn't run away from you like that."

Boris huffed again, looking at the next photo Emma showed him. He sighed and threw an arm around Emma's shoulder. "I suppose it really is you, though. Always wondered where you went to. Does that make us friends?"

"It always did," Emma said, surprised to find herself meaning it. She really liked Boris's company, but she had no idea how things would work when she went home. "Boris, I'm not going to be here anymore after tomorrow," she added, looking up to meet Boris's confused look. "I'm leaving here."

"Forever?" he asked with a frown.

"Forever."

"But Fenrir said –"

"Fenrir doesn't know," Emma said. "I'm not meant to be here, but you know that. So, I'm leaving. I'm meant to be back where I belong…"

"With your pack?"

Emma nodded, "With my pack."

"Does that mean I can't see you again?" Boris asked, sounding genuinely upset by the idea. "If you're going back with _your_ pack –"

"I don't know," Emma admitted. "I really don't. And Boris? You can tell Fenrir that I'm leaving, but you can't tell him where I'm going. He doesn't need to know."

"All right," Boris said uncertainly.

Emma felt terrible and wondered if she could somehow figure out how to keep talking to Boris. A brilliant idea crossed her mind to distract them both from the news. "Hey, Boris, if I show you something, you promise not to tell Fenrir, right?"

Boris's face lit up, and he nodded. "I promise."

"Good," Emma said, reaching into her cardigan to pull out her wand and handing it to Boris. "I want you to try this."

Emma could honestly say that she was going to wind up missing Boris. He was one of the first friends she had ever made in her life, and their friendship felt natural even years later. There was nothing forced between them as if they were always meant to be friends. They came from two very different but somewhat similar worlds. Still, despite that, they had one significant thing in common – they both could do magic.

She enjoyed showing Boris how to use a wand and enjoyed showing him magic that _he_ could do himself. He brightened up considerably when he lit up Emma's wand for the first time, unaware he could even control magic that way. Emma let him practice lighting and extinguishing her wand while she packed, glad to see how excited he was. She just hoped that Boris had enough sense to not say a word to Fenrir, though she worried Fenrir would know anyway. Emma hoped that such low-energy spells wouldn't be as evident to Fenrir, especially since she had been in Diagon Alley all day.

It was a surprising feat that Emma kept herself up until nearly three in the morning before deciding she should sleep. She didn't particularly want to tell Boris goodnight, afraid of never seeing him again, but at some point, their paths would cross again; Emma was sure of it. Tucking her wand back into the front of her cardigan, she got into bed and curled up. She wished that she didn't ask Remus to bring Patches and Bee home for her, but sleep came easier than it had in weeks.

Emma wasn't entirely sure why she was at all surprised to be woken up earlier than she wanted to be. She had been having a very pleasant dream when her entire being started to process that she wasn't alone.

Her initial feeling was confusion, not understanding what the issue was. The hand combing through her hair was gentle, massaging all of the parts she liked best, especially the spot near the base of her skull. Logic told her that she had slept through straight to nine in the morning, and Remus was waking her up so they could go home. This was precisely how Remus woke her up most mornings, knowing that she startled out of her sleep otherwise. As her senses started to wake up, she felt her blood run cold when she realized that it wasn't Remus at all and someone else knew exactly how to wake her up. As the scent of Fenrir's cologne hit her nose, she should have known that her departure from the children's home wouldn't go flawlessly.

During her stay in St. Mungo's, she had been given a lot of time to think about her interactions with Fenrir over the years. He was careful to expose her to different things to make up for the lack of senses as a human. She didn't have the better eyesight or the hearing, but he trained her in his own ways to notice the smallest of details or listen for the lightest of sounds. His attempts at exposing her to different foods had wound up backfiring as she had grown to detest certain meals. However, he never bothered to focus on scent when she was growing up, something he was very clearly doing now.

As if she were a werewolf, Fenrir wore cologne to give himself a distinct scent she could recognize. So much of a werewolf's existence relied on smell for tracking, for discovering, for learning. Emma couldn't accurately say what Fenrir's natural scent was, not in the way she could easily recognize Remus's after so much time together. Fenrir knew very well that Emma wasn't close enough to him to manage such a thing, and the cologne made up for that weakness. It was almost brilliant, clever even. Emma hated it.

Emma could feel her heart start to race with her anxiety. She could feel it threatening to take over, but Fenrir's hand in her hair kept her level; she didn't want it to.

It bothered her, lying there with Fenrir acting as though nothing was wrong. She hated that someone she had cared about had hurt her so much. Even worse, Emma hated that she still didn't hate him. She felt like a kicked dog, trying to grasp anything and everything she knew about Fenrir to justify what he did to her. She was equal parts scared, angry, and hurt, but then there was that opposing side of her, the annoyingly stronger side, that still just wanted to be loved. As much as she tried to erase the decade of her life away from her family, she couldn't. All she had known for so long was Fenrir, and Fenrir alone.

Emma wanted to lean greedily into his touch and take advantage of what he was offering her. She wanted to melt into the softness of his touch as if it were tangible proof that he actually loved her. She wanted to curl herself around him and beg for the love that she felt that she deserved from him. What was wrong with her?

She cracked open her eyes slowly, aggravated that she didn't immediately want to lash out at Fenrir. Instead, her brain was telling her to take things slow - process first, react later. It seemed counterproductive with Fenrir being right there, but even her wolfish side was quick to agree to take things slow. If Soleil was saying to go along with it, Emma had no choice but to follow suit.

Emma started by taking in the view outside her window. The sky was on its way to lightening up, the morning sun still weak. Her clock said that there was still an hour and a half until Remus arrived, and the staff would be in the middle of shifting from night to day shifts. It would be just like any other day, for the most part. Very slowly, she finally looked at Fenrir, her stomach doing a flip at how he was looking at her.

It was the sort of look that she didn't want from Fenrir - one that held a depth of genuine love and worry. It pulled feelings from her that she knew were wrong, and yet there they were, betraying every part of the rational side of her brain.

She wanted to drown herself within the warmth that radiated in the warmth of his typically cold amber eyes. It made her sick. She hated that she had such a sick and desperate need to still want his approval, be the things that he wanted her to be. She hated herself, hated that if things were different, she would willingly allow him to stay in her life. Emma knew the difference between what love actually was and what Fenrir did to her, and yet… She was filled with such a deep self-loathing that it made her wonder if Remus felt the same way towards Fenrir, and it was why he held such disgust of himself.

She knew that her confused feelings were why she needed to start therapy again right away. Emma more than acknowledged that it was more than just an insurance policy for her recovery, to keep her from slipping into old habits. However, she was worried that it wouldn't do a thing for her. Her treatment was for Muggles, which she most definitely was not. To make things even more complicated, she wasn't entirely human either. She existed as half of a half-breed, neither one thing nor the other, and she still couldn't wrap her mind around that. That information about herself was only compounded by her stay in the hospital, forced to be brought up in her care plan.

Emma had listened to Remus's conversation with Elara in St. Mungo's while pretending to read, wanting to figure out all of the things they weren't telling her. They spoke as if she wasn't there sometimes, as if her silence meant she also couldn't hear. Emma had almost wished she didn't listen to them. Even though it was evident that Fenrir had every desire to bite her just because he could, at the end of the day, there were other motives behind it.

First was that it was his way of claiming her. If she were to be approached by another male werewolf with questionable motives, it would make them think twice. If the scars on her face didn't give away which pack she ultimately belonged to, her altered scent from the bites would. Fenrir's reputation ran far and wide, and he wasn't going to take any chances with her.

Second, it fell in line with what Fenrir told her about having the pack follow her if he allowed it. Having such prominent bites heightened her status, somehow made her seem more powerful. As females often didn't survive, multiple bites and surviving suggested her strength. It made her wonder why Elara didn't have a higher position in Fenrir's pack, knowing she had multiple bites. As Emma thought about it, she realized that if she knew Elara as well as she thought, it was most likely by design. There was safety sitting firmly in the middle of a situation.

Third, and possibly the worst bit of information to find out, was it could potentially give him more control over her like she was a full werewolf. She had just enough of the lycanthropy disease running through her veins that there was a chance she would be more willing to obey Fenrir's commands. She had no idea that was even a possibility, but it made sense in a way. In the few instances Remus spoke of his time in the pack, he had brought up the absolute control that Fenrir could have. She didn't entirely understand it, but she hoped Remus would finally explain it to her. The conversation had become more interesting when Elara had pointed out that Emma seemed to easily defy Remus whenever she wished. It didn't even occur to Emma that Remus could have the same power if he wanted, but Remus shook his head in response. He insisted it was different and that was the end of the conversation, but it left Emma curious.

Every single one of those conversations ran through her head as she stared back at Fenrir, trying to find the feelings she needed to pull forward. It took an incredible amount of effort for Emma to finally look away from Fenrir.

"Don't look at me like that," Emma muttered, forcing herself to lean away from Fenrir's touch.

"Like what?" he asked, his tone deceptively soft.

"Like you actually give a shit about me," she said with a growl.

Fenrir dropped his hand into his lap, and Emma could feel his piercing gaze. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't play stupid," Emma grumbled, sitting up to shoot Fenrir a glare. "It's safe to assume that if I ask, you aren't going to leave?" Fenrir arched an eyebrow, and Emma rolled her eyes. She didn't even know why she bothered to say a word. "Fine…stay, I guess. I should have known that I wasn't getting out of here without having to deal with you again."

She was grateful that Fenrir bothered to let her escape the confines of her room to head to the bathroom. It gave her the time she needed to try and regroup, to try and shake off the feelings she had. She looked at her watch and groaned. Time was moving much too slowly for her liking. Emma leaned down to press her forehead to the edge of the sink, trying to work through every stirring emotion she had. Emma thought she would be more terrified of Fenrir than she was after everything, but she wasn't. It was a small comfort that she could think rationally while not being in the room with him. She could handle herself for a little over an hour, but what did she want to do?

Was she going to be able to get Fenrir to leave before Remus got there? Did she _want_ Remus there while Fenrir was there? From what she had come to understand, Remus made it a point to avoid Fenrir at all costs over the years. Remus's fear of Fenrir ran much deeper than hers did, and she understood why. The only incident that she knew about that put them in any near proximity to each other was last year in the woods behind the cottage.

The thought nearly knocked the wind out of her lungs with realization. Was that entire moment planned? Did Fenrir make Persephone drag her out of the house under the guise of trying to figure out where Remus went the night of the full moon? She staggered back from the sink to lean against the wall. Did that mean the moment in her first year when Fenrir slipped into her room was planned as well? It had to have been. The response back from Persephone was very clearly in her writing…

It gave her the anger that she needed, and she made sure that her wand was still tucked away in her cardigan. If Boris had any loyalty to her, then Fenrir would still be utterly oblivious to her having her wand. She had a weapon that she could use and the added element of surprise. She could trust that Remus taught her more than enough to defend herself if she needed to. Worst case scenario, Sirius's knife had found a near-permanent home in the front left pocket of her jeans.

Even though Fenrir was a significant part of her life, Emma knew that he wasn't what defined her. She could take advantage of what he taught her, would have to start thinking like him, but she was much better than that. She was both of her father's daughter, equal parts of Sirius and Remus in both the best and worst ways possible. She was stubborn and brilliant, impulsive and clever, a Lupin by blood, and a Black by chosen family. Emma was going to live up to those claims, even if it was the last thing she did.

"My God, Fenrir, your timing is immaculate," Emma said, punctuating her sentence with a long and drawn-out sigh as she stepped back into her room. "And here I thought I would get out of here without having to see you again."

Fenrir remained on her bed, though she noticed that the windows were closed. He wasn't going to let her go easy, and though it made her nervous, Emma closed the door behind her. The last time she was locked in a room with Fenrir didn't end well, but she needed to know where he kept his wand hidden that day. It was almost too easy. It made Emma worried that Fenrir knew that she had her wand and could be quick to attack. She watched closely as he pulled his wand from the inside of his coat to cast a silencing charm and to lock the door. He was quick to tuck it back into his coat, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Where are you going?" Fenrir asked, in a tone that sounded foreign coming from him. It took Emma a moment to realize there was a hint of worry in his voice. He had absolutely no idea where she was going, and it sent a delighted chill down her spine. It was thrilling that she could even evoke such a strong emotion from him.

"Doesn't matter," Emma shrugged, looking away. "I'm getting out of here, and if I'm lucky, I don't ever have to see you again."

Fenrir was quick to his feet, planting himself right in front of her, backing her up against the door. She flinched as his hands came up to take her face between his hands to lift her face to look at him. There was a flicker of something unreadable behind Fenrir's eyes, and as much as Emma tried to place it, she couldn't.

"And where were you yesterday?"

"Awful lot of questions you're asking, Fenrir," Emma muttered, looking away from his searching gaze. "For someone who hated me asking them questions, you certainly have quite a few of your own." Swallowing hard, Emma allowed Fenrir to brush his thumbs over her cheeks, against the scars he created across her face. She was told to play the game, and she would. She only had an hour left to get through, and that gave her an hour to get more information.

"Beautiful," he murmured, almost to himself as he studied what he had done. He tipped her face up further, though Emma kept her gaze averted. If he was so fascinated, he could look all he wanted; it would buy her more time.

"Why do you refuse to tell me where you've been and where you're going?" Fenrir asked, a low growl in his voice.

"I told you, it doesn't matter," Emma said, nothing bothering to mask her returning growl. "Are you going to pretend that you care about me now?"

"I'm not pretending," Fenrir said stiffly.

"You attacked me, Fenrir."

"I _saved_ you. I have devoted my time to you."

"Saved me from what?"

Fenrir's hand came up to grip her face underneath her chin, his hold more insistent, forcing her to finally make eye contact again. When Emma looked into his eyes, she was very quickly reminded of the other side of Fenrir that she had started to know. He was possessive and demanding, and that softness went away. He never liked it when she challenged him.

"I got you the care that you needed, I gave you back everything that ever belonged to you, I kept Jude from being able to attack you," Fenrir growled, his eyes narrowing. "And you dare ask me what I saved you from, what I gave you? You dare question that I care for you?"

"I question everything about you, Fenrir," Emma sneered. "You say you kept Jude from attacking me, but if you cared, you wouldn't have attacked me in his place."

"I didn't attack you."

"Then what did you do? You bit me twice and then proceeded to…" Emma trailed off, trying to figure out how to phrase what he did to her face. "You _hurt_ me, Fenrir. You can't honestly believe that you actually care for me."

He looked taken aback, his lips twisting with the effort of what he said next, "I love you."

Emma burst into hysterical laughter. It was the incentive she needed to switch off her confused thoughts, and anger gripped itself like an iron vice in her chest.

She ripped her face out of Fenrir's grip and ducked underneath his arm to put some space between them. "No, you don't," Emma said, whirling around to look at Fenrir, his eyes darkening considerably. "Fenrir, if you did, you wouldn't have tried to be just as fucked up as Monty. You had zero issues last week over attempting to _rape_ me. For all the talk you've ever made about being better than that, for _caring_ about me, you've done a terrible job of showing it."

"You knew what my intentions were –"

" _And I didn't want it_ ," Emma snarled, angry tears flooding her eyes. "That isn't _love,_ Fenrir. Regardless of what sick ideas you have in your head, no part of me wanted what you planned to do. I was terrified. I told you to stop repeatedly, and you kept going."

"The full moon –"

"Don't you dare even try to come up with an explanation," Emma snarled. "I know damn well what you were going to say, and that doesn't excuse any of it."

"You know it's fully in my rights to take you whenever I would like? As an Alpha –"

"Fenrir, _I am not in the bloody pack_ ," Emma shouted. "I agreed to nothing! I never said I was joining you! Even if that were the case, there are still some fundamental issues. It does not change that even by werewolf standards, _I am still not of age._ I am not of age in _your_ world, and I am not of age in _mine_. To make the issue worse, even if I did agree to join you to become whatever the hell it is I would be, the moment I said to stop, _you should have stopped_. You can't just take things because you think you can!"

Fenrir's nostrils flared as he stared at her, his gaze predatory and narrow as he pulled himself to his full height. "I stopped," he said slowly.

"Not when I asked you to! The fact you stopped at all is supposed to make it any better?" Emma asked, crossing her arms. "What even made you stop? I know it wasn't because of me."

Fenrir took a deep breath that came out as a growl, his lips curling back. "Ward wanted to watch."

That was not at all what Emma expected, and she searched Fenrir's eyes, almost hoping to find the hint of a lie. "Is that why you killed him?" she asked.

"It was part of my reasoning," Fenrir said with a slight shrug. "I'm surprised your father let you know about that. I would think he would keep that information from you." Emma paled slightly, and Fenrir immediately caught her sudden shift. "What?" he snapped.

"Dad didn't tell me," Emma said quietly. "I had to find out myself…I thought that maybe you were following that night…" The errant flicker of concern crossed Fenrir's face for a split second. If Emma had blinked, she would have missed it, but Fenrir was moving past that quickly. "All the same, why did you kill Ward? Why did you have to kill all of them?"

"For still trying to kill you," Fenrir said simply. When Emma arched an eyebrow at him, he rolled his eyes and continued. "By not giving you the potion, your body was working much harder to fight. All he had to do was give you the potion five out of the seven days, and some of his family would have lived. It's common for werewolves, especially young ones, to die from their hearts working too hard. Since you're trapped entirely in your human form, your body is forced to work even harder to survive. I had hoped that by spending time with you, it would alleviate the effects, but you weren't able to take care of yourself correctly."

"So you attacked me."

"I _saved_ you."

Emma's lips pressed into a thin line, and she shook her head. "And yet you still let Jude live…You kill Ward, but you let _Jude_ live. It makes no sense."

"I want him to suffer."

"By making _me_ suffer?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I _saved_ you?" Fenrir snapped.

"And how many times do I have to tell you that _you hurt me_?" Emma retorted. "I don't fucking understand why you're not grasping that concept." Emma turned herself around, not sure if she was going to regret having her back to Fenrir. She couldn't look at him, too angry that he was trying to justify himself. "Fenrir, if you were anything like the person I thought you were, perhaps I would feel much different. All you've done is shown me that you're exactly what people call you – a monster."

There was a ringing silence that followed, and that made Emma worried. Within moments, Fenrir was directly behind her, his chest pressed firmly to her back. She shivered as he bent low, his breath hot against her ear.

"Is that still what you think of me? You still believe that I'm a monster?" Fenrir whispered.

"You've done nothing to prove otherwise," Emma growled, keeping her arms folded, ready to dive into her cardigan for her wand.

"What do you want from me, then?" Fenrir asked, his hand coming up to brush her hair away from her shoulder so he could look at the bite on her shoulder. "Do you expect all of the nonsense of Pure-blood courting?" Fenrir taunted, his voice sickeningly sweet. "The flowers and the romance meant to sweep you off your feet? You want me to take things _slow_ with you? You expect all of the promises and the gifts that come with a courtship?"

"I'm not Pure-blood," Emma muttered.

"No, you're a mutt, but you're also a Black…You might be the biggest blood traitor of them all. A Black with werewolf blood – if your grandmother on the dog's side wasn't already dead, that would have been what killed her."

"Fenrir, I have no part of Sirius in my blood, and you know it. I am not a Black," Emma scoffed. "But a bloody courtship would certainly be better than whatever nonsense you've got in mind."

Fenrir only grunted in response, a low chuckle rolling up his throat. Emma had no idea what to make of Fenrir's lack of response. She didn't get much of a chance to think about it as he bent lower, and his teeth grazed over the bite on her shoulder.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Emma growled out. Fenrir practically purred, still not answering as he brushed his nose along the side of her neck. "Fenrir, _stop it_."

"Or _what_?" he chuckled.

"Keep going, and you'll find out," Emma snarled.

Fenrir laughed, the sound low and amused as he straightened up. "I thought this was what you wanted – taking things slow."

Emma was tired of Fenrir's game, and she wasn't playing it anymore. Without thinking about it, she ripped her wand out of the front of her cardigan. She pointed it under her arm at Fenrir, concentrating hard to cast a silent knockback jinx. A satisfied smirk crossed her face as she heard Fenrir connect with the wall across the room. The silencing charm was a handy touch – no one would even know.

She was quick to whirl around, fully aware that Fenrir would immediately go for his wand, not wanting to waste time to retaliate. In possibly the smoothest motion she had ever done, she cast a silent disarming charm just as Fenrir's fingers wrapped around the handle of his wand. She probably should have said the incantation, the spell had been wobbly the last time she tried it non-verbally, but she was thrumming with power. To her relief and excitement, the spell worked, and his wand slipped out from between his fingers. With a wide grin, she caught Fenrir's wand in her hand.

"I think I got what I wanted," Emma sing-songed, happily tucking Fenrir's wand into her cardigan. Fenrir looked angrier than she had ever seen him before, and she delighted in it. No one took Fenrir Greyback by surprise, but she just did. Remus would be proud to know those long nights and extra lessons paid off.

She gave her wand a slight twirl with a sigh as she crossed the room, careful to leave just enough distance between them. "What was it you said? Oh yes, a werewolf with a wand is dangerous."

The power she had was intoxicating. She had never felt like this before, like she genuinely had control of everything and over Fenrir. He could still attack her, but Emma knew that Fenrir understood that as long as she held a wand, she was a threat. It was a heady sensation, and she could see how easy it was to get obsessed with power. She was already starting to feel drunk off the feeling. She wanted to chase the high it brought her, so much more pleasant than anything she had experienced. But then her stomach dropped at the sudden flurry of thoughts of what she really wanted to do. She wanted to kill Fenrir just like Remus and Sirius wanted to kill Peter. After being unable to understand how they could feel that way, she was suddenly experiencing what they must have in the Shrieking Shack. What did that say about her?

Her thoughts must have been obvious as Fenrir started to laugh as he sat up straighter. A smile twisted itself on his face as he studied her. "What's the matter, Emma? Too afraid to try and kill me now?" he asked, his smile widening at the sneer on Emma's lips at the use of her name. "I can see it in your eyes, fy lleuad." He leaned forward, grabbing onto Emma's wrist to pull her closer. He tugged hard, forcing her to crouch down in front of him, looking more and more amused. He was enjoying himself.

"You could do it, you know – kill me," Fenrir taunted as he let go of Emma's wrist. "You would be a hero to so many…"

"And if I did kill you, you would only have yourself to blame," Emma growled. "After all, you're the one who decided I should be educated. Do you regret that?"

"I regret nothing, especially when it comes to you."

Emma shoved the tip of her wand into Fenrir's throat, aggravated. "You should," she said darkly. She was tempted to say every possible incantation to end him. Emma knew them, had that information sitting in the back of her mind because Remus told her, each spell sitting on the tip of her tongue. "Because you know damn well that I'm going to be the one that destroys you in the end."

Fenrir looked so amused that it was only angering Emma further. "I'm not too sure about that," he said smugly.

"And why's that?"

"Because you've had all this time to kill me and you haven't yet. I think you just wanted to know what it was like to finally feel powerful. You wanted to know what it's like to be just like me…"

Emma hated Fenrir with every fiber of her being. He could read her too quickly, and she didn't know how to stop him from knowing her thoughts. Fenrir's hand came up to grip her chin hard, pulling her face closer to his.

"Come on, fy lleuad bach. If you won't kill me, I know you want to show me how much you hate me. Say it – say the incantation and prove it to me," Fenrir said. "You know the spell, don't you? Your precious father told you the very incantation that was used on you, I'm sure."

Emma glared at Fenrir, gripping tighter to her wand. She wanted to say it, but not like this where he was taunting her. She wanted to hurt him like how he hurt her, and then kill him to get revenge for everything he had ever done to her and everyone else who was a victim. She wanted to end Fenrir's reign of terror for her father, but she was wavering.

"Do it," Fenrir hissed. "Say it. You know you're _just like me._ Say it, Emma – _Crucio_."

The moment the incantation left Fenrir's lips, Emma knew she couldn't do it. The idea of actually casting the spell made her sick. Jude had used it on her so often that she couldn't imagine doing it to someone else even though Fenrir deserved it. She wasn't like Fenrir at all, and she didn't want to be.

"Well? I'm waiting."

Whatever resolve Emma had left was swept away, and she lowered her wand, angry tears stinging her eyes. All she wanted to do was go home, and she chanced a look at her watch. There was still twenty minutes left before Remus would get there, and she had no doubt it was going to be the longest twenty minutes of her life.

"Oh, Emma…" Fenrir tutted. "Emma, Emma, Emma, fy lleuad bach…I am so disappointed in you."

Emma flinched slightly as he brushed his knuckles against her cheek. His touch practically burned her skin as he brushed away a tear that had fallen. "What?" she snapped, pulling her face away and wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

"And here I thought you had potential," Fenrir sighed. "You were always so promising, a fast learner, so willing to do everything I asked. Shame I'm going to have to leave you for your father to find, anyway. Unless, of course, you give me a reason to not kill you right now."

"W-what?" Emma straightened up quickly in alarm, scrambling back. She opened her mouth to speak, not understanding what had just changed in a matter of seconds. "Y-you wouldn't."

"I would, and I will."

"Y-you said…" Emma trailed off, backing up a few steps further and shaking her head.

"That I love you?" Fenrir sighed, standing up and brushing himself off. "I do. But I'm willing to kill you so that no one else can ever have you because you're mine and mine alone. I'll even make it quick for you," he said, studying Emma for a moment before chuckling. "Well, it will certainly much quicker than Jude would make it, at least."

Emma was stunned, rooted to the spot by Fenrir's words. He flipped like a switch, and while she knew that was how Fenrir worked, she really never expected him to turn on her. "But Fenrir, _you said_ …What do you want from me? I don't understand…"

Fenrir stalked forward, but Emma still couldn't move. She looked up at him, frowning as he peered down his nose at her.

"In case you've forgotten, we had a deal at the beginning of all of this," Fenrir said slowly. "I was never going to do any of the things I've done for you without some sort of repayment. You had two weeks to decide whether or not you were going to be loyal to me. Between Jude and Broderick, you earned an extra week, and I granted it because I needed you healthy. However, I'm starting to think it wasn't worth it, and you know very well what I'm capable of."

"What do you want, Fenrir?"

"You – every single part of you. I want your loyalty, your devotion to me, and only me. I want your allegiance to the pack –"

"But _why me_?"

"Because you – are – mine."

"I'm…I'm not, though," Emma whined. "I can't…"

"Then I suppose your decision's been made," Fenrir said, pretending to look sad for a moment before his face split into a grin. "And I've made mine."

Fenrir was quick to have her pressed up against the wall before she had a chance to react. One hand was firmly around her throat, the other around her wrist, keeping her from using her wand. She refused to let go of her wand, even though she felt the bones shifting under Fenrir's grip. Emma tried to channel every bit of energy she had into casting some sort of spell to get him off of her, but she couldn't breathe. Fenrir was cutting off her air supply, and she struggled to rip his hand away. It was a futile effort, and she was starting to believe that she would be meeting her end after all. The thought of living up to the claim of being both Remus and Sirius's being the last thing she ever did stuck out in her mind, and inspiration struck.

Without thinking too hard about what she was doing, Emma shoved her free hand in her pocket to grab Sirius's knife. Her fingers were clumsy and shaky as they closed around the handle, darkness starting to close in on her vision. The moment she flicked the blade open with her thumb, she drove the knife somewhere into Fenrir's front.

Everything went still, and neither moved for a long moment. To Emma's relief and surprise, Fenrir released his hold on her neck but kept a tight grip on her wrist. Emma took in deep, gasping breaths to try and get air back into her lungs. She was terrified, and she watched in horror as Fenrir looked down at where he was impaled before meeting her gaze. He looked amused, and Emma didn't like it.

"And just what exactly were you planning on doing afterward?" Fenrir asked, sounding entirely unaffected.

Emma gulped, letting her eyes travel down to where the blade was sunk into Fenrir. "Quite honestly, no bloody clue," she whimpered. She gagged as Fenrir leaned forward to sink himself further onto the blade with a growl.

"If you're going to stab someone, at least do it right," Fenrir said, one corner of his lips lifting.

Their eyes both shot over to the door as the loud shouts of Emma's name, and Fenrir grinned. "Oh? Are we about to have company?" Fenrir asked, shoving his hand over Emma's mouth to keep her from saying a word.

Emma's eyes grew wide as the door opened, and three very small and very happy faces peered in. The smiles on Finn, Raewyn, and Brennan's faces immediately fell as they took in the sight of Emma and Fenrir. Emma never considered that they would all come to say goodbye before she left.

"Hello," Fenrir said cheerily, pulling his hand away from Emma's mouth. "And who have we here? Are these your little friends, Emma?"

Emma's eyes darted between the three eleven-year-olds and Fenrir. She plastered on a shaky smile for the three. "Hey, I'm uhm…I really need you to go," Emma said, failing miserably to keep the tremble out of her voice. A squeak escaped her lips as Fenrir increased the pressure on her wrist in warning just as she was about to try and get out of his grip.

"No, I really think they should stay," Fenrir said, beckoning the three to come into the room. "Come in, come in - I always enjoy having an audience."

"No," Emma said sharply, shaking her head. She looked down for a moment, completely forgetting her hand was attached to her knife. She let go with a shudder, taking a deep breath to keep from being sick. "Please, I need you all to leave. Don't say a word to anyone, not even…" Emma couldn't even convince herself to bring up Remus, and her voice broke. She didn't want to give herself to Fenrir, but she was desperate to not have Remus walk in to find her dead. "Just close the door and leave," Emma said when she found her voice again.

Brennan and Raewyn slowly backed away, but Finn remained where she stood.

"Please," Emma pleaded, giving Finn a reassuring nod. "Go. You don't need to be here. I'm fine." Finn cast Emma and Fenrir another look and nodded, slowly closing the door.

A pleased growl rolled up Fenrir's throat, and he turned to Emma with a smile. "And here I thought you were a lost cause," Fenrir drawled. "You have just given me three delicious little gifts. I think I might take that little red-haired one for myself. She reminds me of you, and since you're so unwilling to work with me…"

"No," Emma said sharply. "They're not a part of this."

"Then think fast, because I give it another few minutes before your father comes barging in to play the hero."

"He's here?" Emma asked in a panic. She didn't let herself feel any sort of hope because Fenrir could kill her before Remus could even get to her.

"He's _been_ here, but with the charm and the fact he ignores what he is, he's had no idea that I'm here. The little brats are going to squeal on us right now."

"Fenrir, I don't –"

"Emma," he said sharply. "Be quick about this if you don't want him to find you dead on the floor."

"I need more time…" Emma begged, aggravated at her tears. He didn't deserve them, but she couldn't stop them from falling. Every time she thought she could handle herself, Fenrir proved to her that she couldn't, and she was desperate. "I'm not asking you for much Fenrir, especially if my birthday's in just over a month. At least give me that much and let me make my decision at fifteen. It's not fair to make me choose now."

Fenrir regarded Emma for a moment before pulling the knife from his body. For a split second, Emma thought he would stab her with it, but he dropped it to the floor. He reached into Emma's cardigan to take his wand, flicking it to open the windows and then tucking his wand into his coat. Fenrir squeezed her wrist harder, forcing her to drop her wand with a yelp before he released his hold.

"Fine – but don't you dare try to ask me for any more time." Fenrir slowly made his way towards the windows. "You just might be worth the effort, which is wonderful to know. It would have been such a shame to lose such a beautiful thing like you. Clearly, you're capable of attacking when provoked. I'm sure with training, you'll be unstoppable," Fenrir said, lifting his shirt and pressing his hand down over his stab wound to check if it had started to heal. "While you failed nearly every test I gave you, you passed the important ones. I enjoy when you let Soleil out to play, and you gave me such a nice little taste of her this morning." Emma's face twisted as Fenrir held his blood-covered hand out towards her.

"Do we have a deal?" Fenrir asked, an eyebrow raising in challenge. He wasn't going to make it easy on her, and he had every intention of pushing Emma as far as he could. Emma didn't want to agree to anything, but she was cornered. She reluctantly put her hand in his and gasped as he tugged her closer with a wolfish grin.

"I only agreed to give you more time because our deal doesn't involve leaving the little ones alone, and I was curious to see what you would offer me. You should have known I never would have actually killed you – you're too precious to me. I'll take into consideration your desire for a courtship. If you finally decide to quit being stubborn, I will give you anything you'd like. As my mate, you'll be given the world, but only if you make the right decision," Fenrir said, looking entirely too pleased with himself. He leaned forward to press a kiss to the top of Emma's head. "Tell your father hello for me, and thank you for such a generous gift, fy lleuad bach."

Fenrir let go of Emma's hand, and she crumpled to the floor where she was. She watched in horror as he slipped out her window. The door slammed open only seconds after Fenrir left, and Emma didn't need to look up to know it was Remus. Emma couldn't move, and she couldn't look at her father, not after what she had just done. She was stupid and walked right into Fenrir's trap and made things even worse. She had made one of the biggest mistakes of her life and had dragged three others into it without meaning to. Emma wasn't sure she was going to be able to get herself out of this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	21. Home Sweet Home

Remus's day had started out fantastic – he was bringing Emma back home. Finally.

He had spent a better part of the previous night finally unpacking Emma's things for her with Elara. They both nearly laughed at how terrible of a job she had done packing her trunk until they remembered just _why_ it was done so badly. The two shared a look in an understanding of all of the things left unsaid and continued working silently. The less Emma had to do to settle in, the better.

Everything was cleaned meticulously; Emma's bedding and clothes were laundered and put away. Her bed was made carefully with the same amount of care Remus had taken the first time he brought Emma home. The knitted blanket from Molly Weasley was folded and sat at the foot of Emma's bed, pillows were fluffed and aired, and both Patches and Bee sat ready and waiting. Books were placed back on Emma's bookshelf, arranged in the way that Remus knew she preferred.

To make Emma's home return comfortable, he dragged Elara out to find her a new pair of pajamas. It took them some time to find clothing that would be soft enough for her, but they managed, and they sat waiting for her. Remus had a sneaking suspicion that a fair amount of Emma's wardrobe would be donated to a charity shop. They would have to go out to get her new clothes, but it was a start.

Figaro's bed sat in the space between Emma's closet and dresser with a small basket of toys close by. Small objects of Emma's that the kitten would be overly fascinated by were moved and put away. Elara had been very surprised by the tiny bundle of black fur but quickly became smitten.

"Remus Lupin – a cat owner," Elara teased as she played with the kitten. "Never would have guessed."

"Correction, it's Emma who's the cat owner. I just let the cat live here," Remus said, pulling a smirk from Elara.

"Right, and the fact I've seen you sneak Figaro several cat treats throughout the night is a figment of my imagination?"

"What cat treats?" Remus asked, feigning innocence. "These are for Padfoot."

That had inspired a good ten minutes of laughter as they finished cleaning. It had been one of the better nights that came few and far between. When morning came, Elara bid her final farewell with an overdramatic sigh.

"As much fun as it's been having a roommate for a while, I believe I've more than outstayed my welcome," Elara said as she packed. "I now return your couch back to you. Now, go get your little girl. I'm sure she's beyond eager to be home."

Remus very happily Apparated to a spot nearby the children's home. After being outside the building, it felt strange to finally push through the iron gate to head to the entrance. He had paused, hand hovering over the handle when he felt as though something was _wrong_. The air was tinged with something familiar but foreign. He shook off the feeling and blamed it on his anxiety of stepping into the place that had haunted Emma for nearly her entire life. It was unsettling to hear Emma's stories having never set foot in the building before.

Irma Bryce greeted him excitedly at the entrance. She was the interim director of the facility as her liaison duties were completed for the year. There had been talks of the woman taking over permanently, but she wasn't sure. Remus took a curious look around the entranceway, trying to keep himself from frowning. He had thought Emma was exaggerating when she said the interior was bland, but the woman was somehow the only pop of color he could see.

"I know, it doesn't seem like much, but it's clean, and well…I'm terribly sorry that Emma was never given the care she was meant to have," Irma said sadly, taking a look around herself. "Did you want to take a quick tour? I'm sure Emma's told you stories, but it's much different seeing it in person."

Irma insisted that the paperwork wouldn't take long, and after a quick look at his watch, Remus agreed. He confessed that he found himself curious and hoped that it would give him a better understanding of Emma's life by taking a look around. It was one of the few mysteries he had about his daughter, and he wanted to help her however he could. Irma, who had been in his corner from the very beginning, gave him a beaming smile.

Remus quickly understood how Emma wouldn't have been happy living in such a facility. While there was plenty to do, there wasn't anywhere to really hide. Nearly everything was open-air, the play area and children's lounge large and in view. Finn, Raewyn, and Brennan spotted them quickly and decided to join in on the tour, pulling him this way and that. They were excited to share their experiences, though they were much different than Emma's – they never had a reason to hide.

When Finn asked Irma if she could bring Remus up to her room, he nearly jumped at the chance. He had stopped doubting Emma's claims very quickly, but her room had been the setting of so many of her stories.

He wasn't sure why he was at all surprised when Finn showed him the room. It was somehow plainer than the entryway with two metal-framed bunk beds, the single window directly across from the door, and a small table and dressers. The room was exactly how Emma described it, and somehow that made the entire thing that much worse. He couldn't imagine her living in a room so devoid of anything that made up the very essence of her personality. Finn pointed to her bunk with the mention Emma had stayed in the same spot, and that had been the moment Remus nearly fell apart. He could suddenly understand Emma with a clarity that he never expected to have, and _it just wasn't fair_.

Remus was grateful when Irma suggested that they go back downstairs so that he could sign the paperwork and take Emma home. The children grouped up again quickly and told Remus that they would gather up the cards they made for Emma. He gave them polite smiles and very gladly followed Irma back downstairs and to what was once Ward's office. Irma pointed out the staff area as they passed, and Remus walked by slowly, that strange feeling returning. His hair on the back of his neck raised, and Remus was frustrated he couldn't place the feeling. He had considered asking Irma to let him stop to just let Emma know he was there, but he continued to follow the woman.

The overwhelming and nearly suffocating feeling of dark magic covered the expanse of Ward's office, and Remus nearly staggered with the weight of it. The air was thick with it, and Remus had no idea how Irma was walking around as if nothing was different. He knew that he was sensitive to energy with his condition, but Remus was positive that others could feel it. Fenrir's scent was equally strong in the room, masked only slightly by two different and warring colognes. Remus had to force himself to keep his nose from twitching, overwhelmed by the sheer number of smells in the room. He had so many questions, but he was more concerned with getting Emma home, so he pushed them to the side.

The paperwork was standard and similar to the same release paperwork he had filled out the first time. The difference this time was the paperwork stating that Emma's move was only temporary and on Ministry orders.

"I believe that as long as no one else steps in, your custody is going to be free and clear," Irma said gently as they went through the paperwork. "You'll still have to go in front of the Wizengamot regarding you not registering even though your fine was paid, but I think the issue of Emma's custody will be dropped at the appointment. I think Minerva might have scared the committee the other day."

Remus could only hope that was the case.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly until there was frantic knocking at the office door. The door opened, and three small faces peered in, wearing very similar closed off expressions. Remus's stomach sank as the scent of fear, a bitter tang that made Remus sick, rolled into the room along with Fenrir's very scent.

"Mrs. Bryce, can we borrow Mr. Remus, please?" Finn asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"Yes, of course," Irma said, flipping through the paperwork. "I'll take care of the rest of these forms, and I'll be with you in ten minutes or so."

Remus was quick on his feet and gave Irma a very hasty handshake before rushing off with the other three.

"It's the mean one!" Raewyn said, on the brink of tears as he followed them. Remus didn't have the heart to tell them that he already knew, and he was disgusted that the three were even near him. Remus was even more disgusted that Fenrir would dare get near Emma again.

Remus caught the very tail end of what Fenrir said and was seconds too late to go after him like he wanted. He was assaulted by the coppery scent of blood, Emma's fear, and of course, Fenrir. When Moony wanted to throw himself forward into his mind, he didn't bother to try too hard to stop it. He didn't bother to hide his growl, very aware that Fenrir still hadn't left. Moony was snarling, snapping in his mind in fury that Fenrir would dare linger after causing harm to his child again.

Remus was poised to launch himself out the windows, his wand out to finally attack Fenrir for all the damage he had caused. It was Emma's soft whimper that brought him back to where he needed to be, and he was immediately reminded of the scent of blood. His eyes flicked over to Emma, searching her over for any visible injuries, and his heart stopped when he saw the knife on the ground next to her.

He practically dove to the floor, frantically pulling Emma close to check her over. Remus froze at the sight of blood on Emma's hand, and he gently lifted her face to look at him. He searched her eyes for any signs of pain, an eyebrow quirking slightly when he didn't find what he was looking for.

"It's not mine," Emma whispered, voice trembling just as hard as the rest of her.

Remus searched Emma's eyes for another moment longer and looked down at the knife, taking a subtle sniff of the air. It took him a moment to process that the scent of blood didn't belong to Emma after becoming familiar with it from her injuries. He grabbed onto Emma's wrist to look at the blood on her hand and shook his head. There was no way that Emma had actually stabbed Fenrir. "You _didn't_ ," he hissed, brows knitting together.

Emma only managed a weak nod, glancing down at her hand and whimpering. Remus quickly charmed her hand clean and grabbed the knife to do the same. He flipped the blade back into the handle and tucked it into his pocket. In seconds, Remus was back on his feet, ready to launch himself out the window to find Fenrir, but Emma latched onto his hand tightly.

"Don't," she said pleaded with him, her eyes wide and glassy.

"But Emma, he –"

"I know," Emma said shakily, "but don't…" Emma looked over at the windows as if she could see precisely where Fenrir was, and she looked broken as she looked back at him. "Please, don't leave me…"

Remus was fighting against every instinct he had. Moony was telling him to not listen to Emma, to finally make up for every wrong for her, but his human side was pulling through. He knew that Emma wouldn't forgive him easily if he went. Another growl escaped his lips, but he forced himself back onto the ground. Emma launched herself into his arms, clutching tightly to him and burying her face in the crook of his neck.

He could practically feel Fenrir's aggravation when the crack of Apparition echoed out in the otherwise quiet morning. Fenrir was looking for a fight, but then again, so was he.

"Ow," Emma finally muttered, holding onto him tighter.

"What is it, love?" Remus asked, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "What did he do?"

There was a long moment of hesitation from Emma, and she slowly detached herself, keeping her gaze averted. Slowly her hand came up to touch her neck, and Remus swore he saw red when he saw the forming bruises beneath her fingers. A steady stream of swear words escaped as he gently lifted Emma's face to look at the new injury inflicted. He swallowed hard, stroking Emma's cheek. "Anything else?" he asked, and she shook her head before throwing her arms back around his neck. "We need to take you back to the hospital again," Remus said quietly. "This is something else that needs to be documented."

"No," Emma whined, drawing the word out with a dry sob. "I want to go home. Please, I just want to go home…"

Remus felt himself shatter into a million pieces. Though he knew that it was important that everything be documented, he couldn't do it. He knew that Emma would heal, the bruises mostly for show, to prove a point. Fenrir wanted to warn that if he wanted to, he _could_ kill Emma, but he wouldn't. Remus had a sneaking suspicion that he knew exactly which game Fenrir had played with her, having been on the other end far too many times to count. He could almost hear the exact conversation, and he knew there was only one decision to make.

"All right," he whispered to her. "We'll go home."

Emma didn't want to say goodbye to her three friends, and it didn't take much to pull the information out of her. She refused to go into too much detail, but Remus could piece together that Fenrir suggested he had new targets. It nearly threw off the plan of going home right away, but Irma quickly took over the situation when she came into the room. All it took was Remus saying Fenrir's name for Irma to understand, lips pursing and face flushing with embarrassment. Fenrir was too good at what he did, too well-practiced, but Remus didn't care to explain that.

"Just get her home," Irma said, looking pointedly at Emma, who was clinging hard to Remus's arm. "The other three were meant to be moved from the facility throughout the week, but I'll make sure they leave much sooner. Everything will be taken care of."

Remus knew he wasn't going to be able to Apparate in the condition he was in, and he didn't want to subject Emma to the stress. When he suggested that they take the bus into the town closest to theirs, she readily agreed. It gave them both time to try and decompress and take solace in the closeness of one another.

When they made it into town and started their walk to the cottage, Remus cast sidelong glances at Emma. Her expression grew more and more pensive as they walked, her frown growing.

"This feels too much like the last time," Emma finally said with a frown. She latched onto Remus's hand tightly. "It feels strange to be doing this all over again…"

"It's a bit odd," Remus admitted.

"Want to know the scary part, though, Daddy?"

"What's that, love?"

"Nothing ever really changed from the last time," Emma said quietly. "The only difference between then and now is that we know about it."

Remus wished he could argue that point, but he couldn't. Somehow everything and nothing had changed all at the same time. Everything that was happening now was going on behind the scenes, secrets kept and finally told. He vaguely wondered how different things would have been if he had known the truth right at the beginning, but Remus already knew. He never would have believed it; he had become too much of a cynic. Remus never could have imagined that he could find such happiness or any real sense of fulfillment. Emma had filled in all of the cracks of his broken heart in a way he never expected, and it was what led him to feel such incredible guilt. There was no reason why Emma should have experienced more at fourteen in peacetime than he had at eighteen during the war.

A soft laugh left Emma's lips as she held onto his hand a little tighter. "Wouldn't it be funny if Papa were home, too? That would be nice…" Remus was only partially somewhat inclined to agree. As much as he craved Sirius's company, he felt it would be too much for Emma to handle right away.

Emma's mood perked up slightly as they turned onto the road to the cottage, and Remus nearly let out a breath of relief. If she let go of his hand, he knew Emma would run the rest of the way back home. He could feel her anxious energy, knew she wanted to get comfortable, and figuratively and literally wash away the past two weeks. She wanted to play with Figaro and had spent most of their walk talking about how excited she was and questioning Aurora's owlish opinions on the matter. She snickered when Remus said that Aurora gave her hoot of approval.

Their return home came to a screeching halt, almost literally. A piercing squawk rang out, sending birds soaring out of their perches.

"That wasn't Buckbeak, was it?" Emma asked nervously, peering up at Remus with wide eyes. "He's not…Papa didn't actually come home, did he?"

"Bugger," Remus hissed, rubbing his forehead in frustration. Nothing ever seemed like it went to plan anymore, and he was annoyed with himself. He had to drop all of the security charms he had placed with the Ministry workers coming by and didn't think to put them back up. He wished that he had. "He's not supposed to be anywhere near here and in a completely different country."

"You didn't know?"

"If I knew, I would have told you," Remus sighed, looking at Emma apologetically. "I wouldn't dare surprise you like this." Buckbeak squawked again, and Remus cringed. He would have to set the charms right away just to make sure the hippogriff couldn't be heard everywhere if Sirius stayed. "What do you want to do?"

Emma's forehead wrinkled as she stared down the road towards the cottage, looking torn. "I guess get it over with," she whispered, worrying her lip between her teeth anxiously. "Might as well since everyone else has seen…"

Remus nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Emma's head. "I'll go in first, and if you change your mind about anything, just give me the word."

The rest of their walk was quiet, Emma trailing just behind Remus the entire time. Remus turned back to look at Emma to double-check she was still okay with the situation, and she nodded, still gnawing on her bottom lip. He nodded, opening the door and letting out a sigh. Emma slowly stepped into the room, tucking herself into Remus's side nervously.

Sirius was lounging on the couch facing the door, legs stretched out in front of him with Figaro lying on his chest. He barely looked up from the cat who had made herself at home and was enjoying Sirius's petting.

"Moony, when did we get a cat?" Sirius asked conversationally. "She's cute, but I didn't know we were cat people. Didn't think you were going to try and replace me so quickly." Sirius chuckled, grinning at the cat who stood up to butt her head under his chin. "Bit unexpected…"

Sirius's mouth fell open when he finally looked up from Figaro, his eyes darting between Emma and Remus. His expression shifted several times, unable to settle on one emotion. Emma quickly looked away from Sirius with a whimper, moving partially behind Remus to hide.

"Sirius," Remus said, his voice holding a hint of warning. Sirius snapped his mouth shut, keeping his eyes locked on Remus's, his entire body tense with the effort of not saying a word. Remus sighed again. "Sweetheart, take Fig from Papa and get yourself settled. I'm sure you'd like to relax after the morning you've had."

Emma nodded and started to make her way to Sirius to take the cat from his outstretched hands. She stared at Figaro for a moment before dropping her hands and going to her room without the cat, closing the door quietly. Remus listened closely for any noise and wasn't at all surprised that Emma had cast a silencing charm. She just wanted to be left alone, and he didn't blame her.

"Remus," Sirius said quietly, trying to find his voice. He set Figaro down on the couch and ran his hands down his face, shaking his head. "Our little girl…"

"Sirius, I know –"

"Her _face –_ "

"Sirius, _I know –_ "

"She was _bitten –_ "

" _Sirius, I know_ ," Remus said, exasperated.

" _She looks exactly like you_."

"You have no idea," Remus muttered bitterly. "What are you doing here?"

"I…I saw the articles. It's…you know how it is – a werewolf attack gets spread everywhere in the magical communities…I had to come home."

Remus rubbed his temples. "Sirius, you can't make a big deal out of it. She's had a tough morning already –"

"What happened? _Emma_? It had to be _our_ Emma?"

A sigh escaped Remus's lips as he sat down next to Sirius. "There's a lot that we need to talk about…"

Emma immediately sat down on her floor the moment she got back into her room, leaning against the side of her bed. She pulled her wand out, cast a silencing charm, and pulled her knees up to her chest. She wanted to be happy about being home, but she couldn't. Emma had missed her bed, missed her room, her books, and even the squeaky floorboard by her closet, but it all felt foreign to her.

She couldn't stop herself from going back to her conversation with Fenrir. He was right in his assessment that she wanted to feel powerful, and that was bothersome. She never wanted power before, but she couldn't deny the rush that it gave her. Did that make her like Fenrir? Knowing what she did about her younger self, Emma was starting to believe her desires were darker than she wanted to believe. The fact she could attack Fenrir, even in self-defense, made her feel like she could be just as dangerous as he was. Emma didn't want to be like him, but she knew that the unspoken parts of her personality held hints of his influence.

The more she thought about it, the more she felt it wouldn't be worth returning to Hogwarts for her fourth year. Her classmates already thought she was a werewolf, and that rumor would be even stronger now; she bore the marks of one. Even worse, she was capable of acting like one. In an hour, her entire viewpoint of herself had changed, and she couldn't put aside those facts about herself any longer. The idea of going back to Hogwarts almost made her sick – she didn't want to hurt others, and she had unwittingly dragged three first years into her problems. Fenrir wasn't going to stop with just Ward and his family; as long as Emma refused to give herself to him, he would take things further.

She decided right then and there – she wasn't going to go back to Hogwarts. Emma was going to go on the run with Sirius, and Remus would go with them. They could go anywhere in the world with Buckbeak, and Remus and Sirius could teach her everything she needed to know. It made her happy when Remus taught her things, and Sirius was equally as talented if he helped make the Marauder's Map. They could finally find somewhere that accepted werewolves or at least had better laws, and they could be happy together. They would have to kidnap Harry, of course, but would it be kidnapping if he went willingly? She couldn't see Harry turning down the opportunity with the few things she knew about the Dursley's. It would be perfect. No more Fenrir, no more Jude, no more Ministry, and no more Dursleys for Harry. It would be just the four of them, their two owls, and their new cat. That was all they all needed.

Her heart ached at the idea of leaving George so soon, but it would be better. A clean break would be much better. If Fenrir knew about George, he would go after the Weasley's next, she was sure of it. The more she thought about every person he could attack, the worse she felt. It would be all her fault if anyone got hurt, just like Ward's.

After Fenrir let slip that the only reason Ward stopped because he wanted to watch what he planned to do, Emma could care less about the man's death. In a way, Emma had been able to find solace that the world was rid of one less sick individual, but Ward's wife and children didn't deserve to die. As far as Emma knew, they were innocent.

Emma didn't even realize she was crying until both Remus and Sirius came into her room, quick to hold her between them. It took her even more time to realize just how hard she was actually crying, taking in gasping sobs. Every single bit of pent of emotion she had been repressing for a month finally made its way to the surface. It felt like the aftermath of Margaret's funeral in terms of her feelings. But this time, she wasn't drowning. She wanted so desperately to give in to the desire to hurt someone – anyone – just so someone else understood how she felt.

She couldn't focus on a word Remus said to her, and she certainly couldn't concentrate on whatever Sirius was saying. It wasn't until she felt gentle prodding in her mind that she realized that Remus was trying to use Moony to calm her down. Emma knew that Remus had done it before but was never fully aware of the feeling. She was sorely tempted to fight against it, frustrated he would even try, but Soleil wanted Moony to be let in. Soleil recognized Emma's need for their little pack, and so she finally relented.

Being aware of the influence in her mind was strange. It felt like warm rain, trickling down her head and spreading out; comforting and familiar. She nearly fell back into her panic when she realized that she had felt the same thing with Fenrir, but it wasn't entirely the same. There was a distinct difference between their connections – Remus's was warm and welcoming; Fenrir's was pushy and demanding. It wasn't too unlike their human personalities.

The overwhelming feelings that followed next came as a jumble. All Emma could focus on was the feeling of warmth. There was warmth and safety and love and everything that she desperately needed to become grounded. Emma knew it was all true because Remus very rarely let Moony forward. What Emma found odd was Soleil's sudden call for Padfoot. That was new.

Her awareness of what was happening around her didn't come back all at once. She was aware of Remus holding her first, an arm wrapped tightly around her body and his hand holding her head against his chest. His breathing and his heartbeat were steady beneath her cheek, and it allowed Emma to find a spot to anchor to. Emma followed his breathing pattern when she picked up that he was trying to silently pull her through whatever was going on in her head. They had done this before – this was something she could handle.

Emma opened her eyes slowly, exhausted, and frustrated with herself. She had been doing so well and had vehemently denied she would break down the way she did again. To break down in a way that she didn't even realize that she did bothered her even more. Dr. Wheeler had insisted that it was okay, that it was normal and part of her recovery, but Emma felt she was much better than that.

"Sirius, do you mind grabbing –"

"On it."

A frown crossed Emma's face as she tipped her face up to look up at Remus inquisitively, wondering what Sirius was getting. She marveled that Sirius and Remus could have conversations with each other without having to finish sentences. They just _knew,_ and Emma wondered if she would have that type of relationship with someone.

"Just a warm cloth to clean your face," Remus said gently in explanation. Emma let out a huff at that, turning her gaze towards her dresser just to look at something else. She had to look like a complete mess, but she was too tired to care.

Sirius came back quickly, kneeling back down on the floor. He suddenly looked unsure of what to do, looking to Remus for guidance. Remus sighed, taking the washcloth from Sirius.

"Look at me, baby," Remus said softly, smiling at Emma as she grumbled nonsensically at him. She closed her eyes at the first touch of the warm cloth and the gentleness that came with it. He went through the motions before allowing Sirius to take over, and Emma barely noticed the difference. Sirius was just as gentle as Remus, if not more so out of his nervousness of working around her scars.

"Do you want to have a bath, love?" Remus asked her, and Emma agreed. A bath was very much needed.

Taking a bath felt like such a luxury to Emma, having not taken one in weeks. She stayed within the confines of the warm water and the bubbles until her fingers were beyond wrinkly. Ordinarily, Emma would get lost in her thoughts, but she forced herself to keep her mind blank. She focused on the warm water enveloping her body, soothing every aching muscle she had.

Emma left the confines of the bathroom to find Remus and Sirius in the living room talking quietly. They fell silent as she stepped into the room, and Emma stared at them for a moment before settling in the space between them on the couch. Emma curled up to lay her head on Remus's lap and dropped her feet on Sirius's lap. Remus turned on the television for her, and that was where Emma stayed for the entire day. She switched between who she snuggled with, getting lost in whatever show was playing and petting Figaro when she joined them. If Emma wanted to focus on the show playing on the television, she would snuggle with Sirius. She found that she loved the way Sirius would complain about things that were overly Muggle and could easily be fixed with magic. When Emma just wanted to nap, she would snuggle up to Remus and take advantage of how warm he was. The only time she really got up was for dinner and only at Remus's insistence.

Dinner was quiet, which Emma wasn't opposed to. She wasn't entirely ready for any real conversations just yet, and it seemed like Remus and Sirius weren't either. However, Emma couldn't help but feel Sirius's gaze on her, and it made her skin bristle. She stopped mid-chew to look up at Sirius to find him once again looking at her, his expression pained. She glanced over at Remus, finished chewing, and swallowed hard. Everything was still too much for her, and she needed to step away.

"I think I'm going to go to bed," Emma said quietly, pushing her plate aside and getting up. She gave Remus and Sirius a tight smile. Emma scooped Figaro up into her hands from the counter, retreated into her room, and closed the door.

Sirius looked at Emma's door and over at Remus, looking crestfallen. Remus stopped eating, leaning forward with his elbows on the table and rubbing his face. He had a sneaking suspicion that the silence on the other side of her door meant she cast another silencing charm.

"What did I do?" Sirius asked quietly.

"You keep staring at her," Remus replied. "As much as she tries to insist that she's fine, she very clearly isn't."

Sirius fell silent, pushing his plate aside as well. "Maybe I should leave then...I shouldn't have come back…"

"No," Remus said, shaking his head. "She'll feel worse if you leave. She wants you here, but you can't keep…it's like when I yelled at you lot for staring at me in first year."

"It's hard," Sirius said. "Not that she's not beautiful still, but _it's Emma_ …"

Remus sighed, knowing precisely what Sirius was talking about. He had the same thoughts over and over again. "I feel like it's all my fault," Remus admitted. "Every single bit of it…if I had just…" Remus growled, crossing his arms and looking up at the ceiling. "She asked me to bite her, just so Fenrir wouldn't. The fact she had asked me at all was disturbing, beyond absurd, that I never even stopped to consider the possibility of it ever happening. I promised her that she would never go through what she did…"

"Sometimes, I think it would be better if you just bit her," Sirius said quietly, lifting his hands in surrender at Remus's sharp look. "I know, Remus. I'm just saying that would it be so terrible if she were a full werewolf at this point? She has us…"

"Yes," Remus said sharply. "It's bad enough that she's half and has to experience how terrible people can be." He sighed, rubbing his jaw. "Even if I decided that I could be responsible for turning her completely, I still wouldn't have done it where her first transformation would have been at Hogwarts."

"You would have done it last month?"

"If I decided to, yes, but the system we had was working fine, and there was no need. I would never turn Emma _just_ to turn her. I nearly did it anyway on accident, but I try not to think about everything that happened. I struggle enough with accepting what I've done already."

"And what if it's the only way she can stay with us? Turning her fully?"

Remus took a steadying breath. "I still don't think I could convince myself to do it even then…"

Emma was still up when Remus went to check on her later that night. She was curled up on her side, watching Figaro sleep and running a finger over the kitten's head with a sleepy smile. Emma barely acknowledged Remus's presence even when he sat down on the edge of her mattress.

"You know he doesn't mean it," Remus said quietly.

The smile on Emma's face slipped, and she gave her head a slight shake. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said.

Remus sighed and pressed his lips together. He wasn't going to push Emma when she didn't want to talk, and it had been a hard day. "Any room for me?" He asked.

"Maybe," Emma said, slowly picking Figaro up and turning onto her back to set the sleepy kitten on her chest. Remus sat down in the empty spot next to Emma, stretching his legs out in front of him as he leaned against the headboard.

"You really love her, don't you?" Remus said, watching as Emma continued to pet Figaro.

Emma nodded, glancing up at Remus. "I do. Thank you for getting her for me," she said softly.

"Of course, baby girl. I couldn't imagine separating you two."

Emma hummed softly, scratching Figaro behind her ears and smiling as the kitten closed her eyes, pulling her paws underneath her body. "You don't say anything in Welsh to me anymore," Emma said quietly, resting her head on Remus's shoulder. "Why not?"

"I…I didn't want to be the one to stir up any memories," Remus admitted. Emma glanced up at him and nodded slightly with the understanding of what he meant. She tried to ignore that they used the Pensieve at St. Mungo's.

"I miss it," Emma replied after a long pause, voice cracking. "It…it scared me with Fenrir because I never really paid attention, but I'm supposed to be _your_ cariad bach, and you haven't called me that..."

"Oh, Emma," Remus said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You are always going to be my cariad bach. You will always be my sunshine, my baby girl, and every other name I call you. That is never going to change." He brushed away the tears that had fallen from Emma's eyes with his thumb. "Even when you're 105, and I'm...bloody hell, 124, you will always be my little girl." He didn't think that he would make it that long, but the sentiment was still there.

"You're being awfully optimistic," Emma muttered. "I don't think I'll ever get to be that old."

"You will. You have got a very long and happy life ahead of you, love."

Emma didn't comment, just kept her gaze fixed on Figaro, scratching the kitten behind her ears. Figaro never stopped purring, and Remus was beginning to realize Emma liked the sound. He could see her fingers itching to pull the cat closer to her, but she let the kitten sleep.

Remus cupped Emma's chin and turned her face to look at him. "You know I love you, right? You know Sirius loves you?"

Emma swallowed and nodded but still didn't speak. She closed her eyes for a moment when Remus kissed her forehead again. It had taken her far too long to understand the gravity of such a simple gesture. Remus wasn't the only person in her life who extended such a moment with her, but he was one of the few who did it with tenderness. Everything he ever did for her was because he loved her, and she bit her lip hard to keep from letting the tears that pooled under her eyelids from falling.

She opened her eyes, not surprised to see Remus's smile that he reserved only for her, full of pure adoration. Emma sniffled, feeling her throat grow tight. She didn't want to cry again, but this time it was from the understanding that she was truly loved. Still, it didn't stop her from searching Remus's eyes, looking for any trace that he didn't love her like she thought. It was such an incredibly foolish thought to have; she _knew_ that he loved her. The betrayal she felt with Fenrir ran deep, and it was hard for her to not be scared all over again.

"You have such sleepy eyes, my love," Remus chuckled softly, kissing both of her cheeks. "Rest. I'll stay here with you."

"You don't have to..."

"It's your first night back home – just until you fall asleep."

That was something Emma could agree to, and she closed her eyes, listening to Remus's soft humming. It didn't take long for sleep to overtake her.

"I really shouldn't have come back," Sirius said from Emma's doorway. "I should have known this was a terrible idea."

"Sirius, we went over this already," Remus said. "Don't you dare think of leaving."

"I'm not. I just…I don't know how to take care of her anymore. It's like I told her back round your dad's – it's not like she's a baby anymore. I just keep doing all the wrong things. I completely floundered earlier."

"Well, I have good news for you – I don't know what I'm doing anymore either. This is all new to me, too, Sirius."

"What do you mean?"

"I only know how to take care of myself, not someone like me. That's something that you're much better versed in than I am. I can help a lot with the mental side of things, but the physical aspects are foreign."

Sirius's expression went blank as he looked at Emma. Remus could see the gears turning in his head as he thought about it. "Well, maybe I do know how..." Sirius said after a few minutes.

Sirius was a caretaker by nature. It was something he kept well hidden, but he took care of the people he loved. After years of caring for Remus, he knew exactly how to take care of a werewolf. Remus only knew how to take care of himself and his injuries. Emma's were still new, and Remus worried about agitating things further. This was one area of care that Sirius could excel at.

Remus carefully slid himself out from underneath Emma, not wanting to wake her up with how quickly she fell asleep. Figaro woke up just long enough to stretch, arching her back with a yawn and jumping up to Emma's pillow to curl up.

"I think you'll be better at picking her up," Remus said gently. "She has a lot still healing right now on her body. I don't know how to adjust her easily. She would wake up at the hospital when I did, but I don't think she remembers it, which is a miracle."

Sirius nodded and, with practiced ease, managed to wedge his arms underneath Emma to scoop her into his arms. "I always forget how small she is," Sirius whispered. Emma barely stirred in Sirius's arms, and Remus gave him an encouraging smile. "She barely weighs anything."

"Be glad you didn't see her when she wasn't eating," Remus said darkly. "She's at least healthy now, relatively speaking. She's a bit thin right now, but her meals haven't been consistent until her stay in St. Mungo's."

"And she's trembling so much," Sirius said in alarm as he set Emma back down on her mattress.

"She hasn't stopped since the hospital," Remus said sadly as he pulled Emma's blanket up over her. "Elara thinks it's a combination of things. Her brain still has to process a decade's worth of memories being put together. Because of it, Emma's more aware of the damage done from the Cruciatus. She's anxious, and it shows. We can only hope that her being home helps to alleviate some of her symptoms."

Sirius frowned and sat down on Emma's bed. Remus was still unfamiliar with this version of Sirius – unsure and lost. He was so used to Sirius's confidence, sure and proud of everything he did. Azkaban had done a number on Sirius, but Remus never expected that trying to take care of their daughter would be a part of his downfall. "She hates me," Sirius said. "I know she does."

"Emma doesn't hate you, Pads. She's...the poor thing hasn't been able to catch a break in a month. That's the only reason she was allowed home; to try and let her have time to recover. It won't be enough, but it's a start." Remus reached out to take Sirius's face between his hands to kiss him. "Running off scared isn't going to help her, Sirius. I think it's time we finally try to figure out how to do this together and not play house while at Hogwarts. All that talking we used to do is a reality – because of you and because of…because of Margaret. She's our daughter, and right now, she needs stability. That means with you too."

Sirius reluctantly agreed.

For the first time in a while, Emma woke up without having a nightmare. Her room was still dark, but it was starting to lighten up. She looked to her left to find Figaro sleeping on her pillow. She turned her head to her right, not at all surprised that the overwhelming warmth she felt was Remus. Emma lifted her head and found Sirius as Padfoot sleeping at her feet. Her entire family was squashed in her twin bed, and a smile crossed her face.

Padfoot lifted his head and met her gaze with a yawn. Remus was still fast asleep, snoring much to Emma's amusement. Emma wished she could record Remus snoring because he never believed her.

Emma turned onto her side and scooted closer to Remus, freeing up space to her left. She motioned for Padfoot to take the empty space. They stared at each other for a moment before he lifted himself up to deposit himself in the spot between the wall and her body, resting his head on his paws. Figaro lifted her head to eye the dog up curiously and curled back up unconcerned.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Emma whispered, scratching the spot between Padfoot's shoulders that she knew he liked. His ears flicked slightly, his head turning minutely in her direction. "This is new for all of us still, and I think I'm too afraid of getting comfortable. I've done some idiotic things the past few weeks, and I thought I could handle everything, but I didn't do a good job like I'd hoped. I thought I was smart, but I realized that I'm really not. I should have known it was all a trick…"

Padfoot turned his head more towards Emma, pressing his nose to hers.

"I just wish that we could all just be a normal family - that's all I want," Emma said with a huffed out laugh. "I suppose we've never really been that normal though, have we? I've got a dog father and a wolf dad, but I think that makes me really lucky. We're not normal, but we're special because our family is just for us."

Padfoot snorted, and Emma groaned as snot hit her face, and an errant smile crossed her face. "Papa, that was disgusting," Emma said, rubbing her face. She let out a squeak when Remus's arm suddenly wrapped itself around her middle, pulling her back against his chest

"Emma Hope, please go back to bed," Remus mumbled. "It's late."

"Actually, it's early. The sun's starting to come up," Emma pointed out, grinning as Remus let out an exasperated sigh. His hand came up to smooth back her hair, and he kissed the back of her head.

"Whatever time it is, it's too much whatever time it is to be talking so much."

"There's never a wrong time."

"Sleep, fy nghariad, please."

The abrupt return to her usual name pulled a sharp breath from her, and she looked over her shoulder at Remus in surprise. He was looking at her just as surprised, and he was tense until Emma gave him a beaming smile. She was delighted to hear it and settled back down quickly, throwing an arm around Padfoot. They didn't leave her, she was still home, and finally, _finally,_ the nightmare had stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	22. Patching Up the Pack

It was well past morning when Emma finally woke up. Her room felt empty without everyone in it, and a frown crossed her face when she noticed even Figaro was missing. The smell of breakfast wafted in from underneath her door, and Emma's stomach growled. It had been far too long since she had a real breakfast that wasn't rushed, and she was looking forward to eating normally again.

The moment she opened her door, a smile crossed her face as she heard the melody of whatever song was playing on the radio. Just outside her door, Emma was given a rare glimpse of the very life she always imagined, and it made her look past every terrible moment.

Sirius had roped Remus into dancing, and Figaro sat on the kitchen counter watching them with bored curiosity. Emma loved to see Remus looking so much younger than he did, eyes bright as he laughed breathlessly. Sirius was singing terribly to him, pulling Remus into twirls and even dipping him once or twice. They were just missing Harry.

"Pumpkin!" Sirius said brightly when he noticed her. "Come join us!"

"Oh, I don't know," Emma said, combing her fingers through her hair nervously. She was afraid to know where the conversation would go this early in the morning.

"Why not? Moony says you're a beautiful dancer."

"I, uhm...I don't want to dance anymore," Emma said quietly.

Remus and Sirius froze, and the entire house seemed to fall silent. Even Figaro stopped grooming herself to look at Emma, the end of her tail flicking where it curled over the edge of the counter. Remus and Sirius separated, and Remus looked as though he was trying to figure out what to say next.

"Please don't try and convince me to not stop," Emma added, shuffling her feet anxiously. "I don't…I can't."

"I wasn't going to," Remus said with a slight frown.

"I wasn't either," Sirius said slowly. "I wish I could have seen you dance, but if you don't want to, then that's your decision."

"And if you change your mind again, that's perfectly all right," Remus added.

Emma looked between Remus and Sirius, not sure if she had heard them correctly. She had expected Remus to insist that she keep going to her ballet lessons, and Sirius she wasn't too sure about. Emma opened her mouth to speak but closed it, crossing her arms and feeling confused.

Remus sighed and crossed over to Emma, pulling her into his arms. "You are home, sweetheart, remember that. You get to make your own decisions here, just like you always have," Remus reminded Emma gently. "All that matters is that you're happy and that you're safe."

Emma very slowly wrapped her arms around Remus to melt into his embrace. She reached out for Sirius and pulled him into their hug. If Emma could, she would stay exactly where she was in the comfort of their embrace, but her stomach growled again.

"I think that means someone is hungry," Remus laughed as they all separated. "Come on, let's all eat."

It was hard to tell who was more excited for food as Emma and Sirius tucked into their breakfast quickly. Remus was perfectly content with watching his little family over his cup of tea. Wanting to move past the initial awkwardness of the morning, Emma asked Sirius all about where he had been over the past few weeks. Remus knew that Sirius was embellishing his stories to make Emma smile and could only shake his head.

"So, Emma, Moons and I were talking about what to do next," Sirius said slowly, glancing over at Remus, who gave a small nod in response.

"What do you mean?" Emma asked.

"Well, when all of this nonsense is over," Sirius explained. "When we can both be home without issue. And when we can finally add Harry to our little family." Emma looked surprised at the sudden turn in the conversation.

"Oh," she said, sitting up a little straighter. "Well, er, what were you both thinking?"

"Well, we want you to be a part of the conversation, obviously," Remus said. "After all, we don't even know that Harry will want to join us."

"You know he will," Emma said quietly.

"And you're still all right with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Emma questioned with a hint of hesitation. "I mean, Harry's Papa's godson…"

"I know that the conversation is just being sprung on you," Sirius said quickly. "We just want to have all of our plans in place so that there's no delay. I think we've all been separated for too long." Sirius reached out to grab Remus's hand, their fingers lacing together.

Emma had to agree, and a slight smile crossed her face as she looked at Remus and Sirius's joined hands. She liked this – no, she _loved_ this, but she didn't want to fall too in love with the current situation. Everything was too up in the air, but she wanted to get lost in the idea that they could have this all the time.

"Uhm, well, where were you planning on starting with things?" Emma asked.

"Somewhere to live, for starts," Remus said.

"And we were thinking that instead of finding somewhere new to live, we could all just stay here," Sirius said.

"Well, it's rather small for all of us, isn't it?" Emma asked, not expecting to hear that they were considering staying at the cottage.

"Yes, it is. We decided that we're going to shove you and Harry into the same room, and you two can switch off on who gets the bed," Remus deadpanned. Emma shot Remus a glare and rolled her eyes.

"How would it work, then? There are only two bedrooms – yours and mine," Emma said.

"We were thinking of adding on, actually," Remus said. "We could add a second floor easily enough. We could make two completely new bedrooms for you and Harry, add another bathroom. I was thinking we could move the study to your room, and we can open up the entire area where the study currently is."

"That's a lot of work," Emma commented, trying to imagine it.

"If you'd rather us all find somewhere else to live, then we can do that, too."

"But this is home," Emma admitted. As much as she loved the idea of a new home for all of them, she wasn't sure she wanted that anymore after being away from the cottage for so long. If they added on to the house, there would be more than enough space for everyone.

"Then what do you think?" Remus asked gently. "We make our home a little bigger for all of us? Get everything fixed up and consider it the fresh start that we all need?"

"I think that would be nice," Emma said, taking a look around the kitchen. "But won't that be expensive?"

"Er, well, that's another thing we wanted to talk about," Remus said, clearing his throat. "Sirius and I have done a lot of talking. We weren't entirely sure if we wanted to stay together after everything –"

"Is this where you two tell me that you're basically getting divorced?" Emma asked with a frown. "Because I don't approve if that's the case."

"Neither do we," Sirius said with a bark of laughter. "Pumpkin, do you really think we would discuss where we're all going to live if we weren't going to stay together?"

"Well, I don't know," Emma huffed, crossing her arms. "Everything is weird all the bloody time."

"We know," Remus sighed. "I don't know if you would have realized when you were younger, but, er, Sirius and I were engaged."

"You two were going to get _married_?"

"We still want to," Sirius replied. "Well, when everything's settled down, obviously."

"So, what exactly does that mean?"

"A few things. One, you're not getting rid of either of us easily," Sirius said, pulling a smile from Emma. "You are our daughter, and nothing is ever going to change that. Two, I'm going to have to help Moony dig through his things to find the bloody ring I bought him. And the third, most important thing of all, is that you are now very rich."

Emma stared blankly at Sirius and looked over at Remus, trying to figure out if Sirius was playing a prank on her. When she couldn't find any traces of humor on Remus's face, she wasn't sure what to think.

"What do you mean I'm rich?" Emma questioned, both of her eyebrows raising. "What exactly does that mean?"

"Exactly as I said. All of us have more bloody money than any of us are ever going to need," Sirius said. "I know Moons has told you a bit about my family – _our_ family – but it goes beyond just the Pure-blood nonsense. The Black family has been around for a very long time, and investments have been made over time. As the last remaining next of kin, I have inherited a lot of money. The money from my uncle Alphard was more than enough to live off of, but now I have even more."

"Is that how you bought Harry's Firebolt?" Emma asked. "You can't tell me that you have even more than that."

"Er, well, darling," Remus started before trailing off. He cleared his throat as he looked back over at Sirius for a moment. "The truth is Papa has more than enough money that none of us would ever have to work a day in our lives. Chances are, future grandchildren wouldn't, and most likely even great-grandchildren. The Black family made some astute investments."

Emma still wasn't entirely sure that they weren't playing a joke on her. There was no possible way that they could be _that_ rich. That just wasn't something that could ever happen to her, and the idea of it seemed absolutely ludicrous.

"So, if that's the case, then why were _you_ working?" Emma asked Remus, her brow furrowing. "If there's no reason to work, then why would you?"

"Because I need to do something," Remus said. "I'm not someone who can sit around and do nothing, and I've never been able to take any of Sirius's money. Besides, it's still complicated with him being a wanted criminal and the whatnot."

"A _dangerous_ wanted criminal, Moons – remember that," Sirius scoffed. "And she has a point, you know; you don't have to work. You never did."

"I'm well aware, but I can't _not_ work, and you know that," Remus said pointedly to Sirius. He turned back to Emma with a sigh. "But this does put you in a bit of a situation, love."

"What sort of situation?" Emma asked.

"Well, do you remember when we had the discussion of people becoming your friend for the wrong reasons?"

"Well, it's not like it's _my_ money," Emma laughed. "So it's not like it matters."

"That's the thing, sweetheart. It _is_ your money."

"You, my little Chocolate Frog, will be the last remaining heir of the Black family," Sirius said. "It'll be a lot easier to explain when I'm somehow not a fugitive. However, that doesn't change that when I eventually die from my heroic death in the very distant future, you're inheriting far more gold than anyone ever needs."

"Oh, you're actually being serious about all of this, aren't you?" Emma said after a long pause. She watched as Sirius had to physically restrain himself from making a pun as he gripped tightly to Remus's hand again.

"How about we come back to that conversation later," Remus suggested when he noticed that Emma was starting to look uncomfortable. "In the meantime, if we're all going to stay here, did you want to get started on our new garden?"

"A garden?" Emma asked, perking up slightly. She couldn't wrap her mind around the idea of being wealthy, and she had a million questions, but she wasn't ready to ask them. It was too much for her to process, but the idea of a garden was a welcome distraction.

"For all the potions you like to make, I can't imagine you having anything less than absolutely fresh ingredients."

"That means if you want all of those really creepy plants that Moony says you like to work with, you can have them," Sirius added.

"Really?" Emma asked, trying to keep herself from smiling.

"Really," Remus said.

"And who's going to take care of the garden when I'm not home?" Emma questioned.

"Well, I suppose I'm going to have to figure it out. As long as you teach me what to do, I think I can handle not killing your plants."

"Good, because you know exactly which plants you _can't_ kill."

"I'm aware, love," Remus chuckled. "But I would like to have plants other than the ones needed for the Wolfsbane Potion."

"I really want to play in a garden," Emma said, her nose scrunching up with her wide smile. "I'm really excited."

"Good, be excited!" Sirius exclaimed. "You're allowed to be excited."

"Now, what do you say we get started on that garden?" Remus suggested. "We can write everything down, and I can go out and get the things you need while you and Papa start to set things up."

Remus was alarmed to come back home to find both Emma and Sirius covered practically head to toe in mud. His jaw dropped as he watched Sirius, transformed into Padfoot, digging massive holes in the backyard, flinging dirt at Emma with no care. There was no direction in what they were doing, or at least there wasn't anymore. Remus could see the start of neat rows being made in the ground before it dissolved into the current chaos. It was the sort of damage he expected from Buckbeak, but the hippogriff was nowhere in sight and most likely scavenging somewhere. He was utterly stunned by what was happening, but Emma's laughter was music to his ears. If destroying the entire backyard and getting covered in mud was what brought Emma joy, Remus didn't care.

Sirius transformed back, sitting on the ground, and Emma laughed even harder seeing just how covered in mud he was. It was so much worse when he was a man again, the dirt stark against his skin. Sirius spluttered, spitting dirt out of his mouth and giving Emma a lopsided grin. Nearly his entire face was covered in mud from Padfoot digging his nose into the earth while digging.

"That really wasn't a good idea, was it?" he asked, and Emma shook her head. "Oh, well. I've done worse." With a mischievous grin, he grabbed onto Emma's hands and pulled her down onto his lap. He held onto her tightly, laughing at her weak attempts at escaping, and grabbed a handful of mud, which he smeared into her hair. She squealed with laughter and immediately dug her hands into the dirt to do the same to Sirius. Remus was grateful that they could still find joy and was happy they could find it in each other. His heart swelled with affection as he watched them together.

"I had no idea that I left _two_ children at home," Remus said, arching an eyebrow at the two. Emma and Sirius looked up at Remus with wide eyes, looked at each other, and began laughing even harder.

"What do you think, Pumpkin?" Sirius asked when he finally stopped laughing long enough. "Should we both get Daddy so that he matches us? I think he would look fantastic with a mud beard," Sirius said, not bothering to keep his plans quiet.

Emma looked at Sirius in pure awe before a mischievous grin crossed her face. She began to nod excitedly, and Sirius pushed her back up onto her feet. Emma bent down to grab two handfuls of mud and looked at Remus expectantly as Sirius got up and did the same.

"Oh, no," Remus said, lifting his hands in a pleading gesture. "Absolutely not."

Remus should have expected that Sirius would transform into Padfoot to chase him around the yard. He didn't want to be covered in mud, but Emma started to slip, and he automatically reached out for her. Cursed by the momentum of Emma falling and Sirius barreling into them, Remus found himself on his back with Emma in his arms, in the biggest mud puddle of all. To add insult to injury, Emma grabbed large handfuls of mud she could and smeared it all over his face with happy giggles.

Resigned to his fate, Remus decided it would be worth having some fun. He was already covered in mud, so there was no use in trying to avoid it any longer.

Remus pulled Emma's face close to his to rub his muddy cheek against hers, laughing at Sirius's enthusiastic barking and Emma's noises of disgust. Sirius transformed again, not wanting to be left out, and slid into the mud next to Remus, pulling Emma into the space between them. As if they were of the same mind, Remus and Sirius attacked Emma's face with kisses until she cried from her laughter.

For a moment, Remus and Sirius pulled back just to look at each other. They had talked so much Emma looked between the two of them curiously. Unable to resist torturing Emma a little bit, Remus and Sirius lifted themselves to kiss each other, and Emma groaned, covering her face.

"Ew," Emma said with a giggle. She didn't bother fighting Remus when he slung an arm around her to pull her close. Emma looked up at Remus with a huffy breath, trying to wear a displeased look on her very muddy face and failing miserably.

Hidden in the depths of Emma's eyes, Remus could see it – the glimmers of hope and pure joy sitting underneath the surface. This was all that she wanted, even if she never said it out loud; it was what they _all_ wanted. When Remus looked up at Sirius, he could see the same thing in his eyes, the ghosts of Azkaban momentarily floating away. This was what they all _needed_.

Remus had no idea what Sirius was worried about when Emma gravitated towards him. If they were in a room together, Emma was sure to be close by. Some part of her body would be touching him as if she was afraid he would disappear if she wasn't. They bonded easily over whatever show they could find on the television that caught their attention. Emma would giggle at Sirius's comments, amused at his takes on things. She really enjoyed trying to explain newer concepts to Sirius, trying to help bridge the gap from what he remembered last. Remus couldn't help but notice each time that Sirius clearly knew something, but pretended he had no idea just so Emma would tell him.

Sirius was a natural with Emma, and Remus found himself a little jealous that it seemed to come so easy for him. It had taken Remus far too long to sort through his own feelings, but then again, Sirius had always known the truth. Remus had to squash the feeling down and ignore the bitterness he felt. They were finally all together, and that's what he needed to remember. This was their chance to have their family together with no intrusions or interruptions. It was just one of the small miracles granted with Emma's stay – the Ministry wouldn't be sending anyone to check-in. For nearly three full weeks, they were going to be an actual family. Remus hoped it would be enough to educate Emma on everything she needed to know.

There was so much that Emma needed to learn in such a short amount of time. He had no doubt that Emma would pick up on things quickly enough, but Remus felt there just wasn't enough time. Remus wholeheartedly agreed with Elara's suggestion of teaching Emma Occlumency, and he wished he had thought of it sooner. It was a difficult skill to learn, but he hoped that Sirius would help as well. Sirius was a little rusty with the skill after Azkaban, but Remus hoped that by teaching Emma, it would strengthen his skills. It would help them both.

On top of Occlumency, Remus promised to finally teach Emma more about werewolf culture. He found himself dreading those conversations the most, but Emma's life had become so enmeshed with other werewolves that he couldn't put it off. Remus couldn't let Emma walk into situations blindly again because he felt the need to shelter her. His desire to ignore that Emma was half-werewolf had inadvertently put her into danger. Remus hated himself for it.

Somehow, both Remus and Sirius had to both explain to Emma the seriousness of her financial status. There was far more money than Emma would ever need in her life, and Remus didn't think Emma understood that. Remus didn't think that Emma would suddenly want the finest things in life, but he wanted her to understand she didn't have to go without either. Though Remus made sure that Emma didn't go without the best that he could afford for her on his own, he needed to make it clear that she didn't have to worry. Emma had gone from having nothing to being one of the richest witches in all of the United Kingdom. That was information that needed to be protected and guarded closely. If too many of the wrong people knew, Emma would have to worry about more than just her current problems. Greyback, Jude, and Ellis they could all eventually handle; the rest of the nefarious wizarding community was a different story.

Overall, they had all had a decent day together. It was a vast improvement from the day prior, and though it was still an adjustment, they were making progress. As the night started to wind down, Remus could see Emma beginning to curl in on herself, a sure sign that her thoughts were taking over. Emma was snuggled up with Sirius on the couch, but her eyes were slowly starting to unfocus from whatever show they were watching on the television. It had been quite some time since Remus had seen Emma close off, but luckily, he knew exactly what to do. They could work through things just like they always had.

"Fy nghariad, would you like to take a bath?" Remus asked, putting a hand on Emma's arm gently and leaning forward to put himself in her line of sight.

Emma slowly turned her head towards him, her brow furrowing ever so slightly as she tried to put together what he said. It often took Emma a few moments to pull herself out of her thoughts to respond, but Remus was always patient with her. Remus found himself going through the same with Sirius more often than not, and he didn't mind. Eventually, Emma gave a small nod, and that was Remus's cue to get up to draw a bath for her.

The tub was half-full when Emma finally got up from the couch, padding past the bathroom as quiet as she could to her room. A few moments later, Emma appeared in the bathroom doorway, nibbling her lip as she met Remus's gaze.

"What is it, love?" Remus asked.

"Is it all right if I borrow your pajamas?" Emma asked, pulling at her sleeve.

Remus had to keep himself from frowning. Wherever Emma's mind had gone to, it had made her nervous, and it always hurt him to see her looking so uncomfortable.

"Sweetheart, you know you don't have to ask me," Remus said gently. "You know I don't mind."

"I know, I just…I don't know."

"Emma, you are home. What's mine is yours."

There was another long moment where Emma tried to let Remus's words sink in, and then she nodded, retreating to grab clothes to wear. Remus was sure that he would have to continually remind Emma that she was home all over again, but it was okay. It was just one more thing for them to figure out how to work through.

Emma was perpetually grateful for Remus's constant patience with her. He was patient with everyone, but she felt that she often overextended his patience. She was told that she was difficult growing up, and she knew that about herself, but Remus never cared. Even Sirius didn't seem to mind, even though he needed extra time extended for his thoughts as well. The only one that ever seemed put together was Remus, but Emma realized half-way through her bath that he really wasn't. They were a family made up of little broken pieces that had shattered on the ground, but their disjointed pieces fit together perfectly.

She couldn't quite understand everything that she had been told earlier that day. Emma was happy that she would always be able to call the cottage home and was curious to see how it would look. She loved that she finally had a garden, or at least attempted to put together a garden. With Sirius's assistance, they had destroyed the backyard.

It had started innocently enough until Sirius decided that using his transfigured trowels was going to take too long. He had been excited to show off his transfiguration skills using Emma's wand, but he wasn't happy enough with the situation. Emma tried to argue that it was okay and that the dirt was perfect to work in from that morning's rain, but Sirius was insistent. She had watched in shock as Sirius transformed into Padfoot and immediately began digging into the dirt. She wasn't entirely sure when it turned into their mud fight, but the perfect lines they made started disappearing and quickly. The entire patch of land designated as the garden was wrecked, grass and dirt thrown everywhere. She never expected to have such pure joy from playing in the mud.

When Emma felt her fingers and toes were wrinkled enough, she finally pulled herself out of the warmth of the bathtub. The air in the rest of the bathroom was chilled, and her skin was covered in gooseflesh, and she quickly pulled her towel around herself. Remus always remembered to charm her towels to stay warm, and she was grateful for it. Temperature differences had felt more severe lately, and she took advantage of the simplicity of a warm towel.

Even being home, Emma found her thoughts were scattered. They were much more confusing, pulling her in every direction possible. She was frustrated, scared, happy, excited, nervous, angry – she couldn't settle on one feeling. It felt similar to how she felt before starting therapy but less extreme. It was like everything was a perpetual and constant nuisance.

Her emotions would flare up when she didn't catch herself when she looked at Sirius, but she quickly squashed her feelings down. Sometimes she would look at him and remember the Halloween he left her and everything that happened. A lot of the old memories had started to settle in like old dreams she could vaguely remember, but Halloween night she kept her focus on. It had changed so much.

Sirius told her he would come back to bring her to the Potters that night, he just needed to check on something, but he never returned. Instead, Margaret moved Emma to the spot hidden by the Fidelius with a very tight hug and a kiss, and that was it. She was left in her makeshift little room with her things, some food, and a light. They never came back for her, but instead of Ellis being the one to find her like they thought, it was Fenrir. She couldn't find it in herself to bring it up to either Remus or Sirius, but Emma assumed it meant that Ellis told Fenrir her location.

It was Fenrir who had brought her to Saint Nicholas's sometime in the dark of night. It was Fenrir who stayed with her the entire time until someone arrived. It was Fenrir who let her cry herself out, begging for Remus or Sirius or Margaret. It was Fenrir who had dragged Jude and Ellis along sometime later to figure out what to do. Sometimes it felt like an out of body experience to remember the exact moment her memories were taken. With that part of her life taken care of, stolen from her mind, everything settled into what her life had been. Just like everyone else, they had all disappeared and left her until years later.

Emma had thought Dr. Wheeler insisting she had separation anxiety was foolish, but knowing what she did, it finally made sense. She had been abandoned too many times to count, and even if she didn't actively remember it, she _knew_.

She took a deep, steadying breath as she dressed. Her frazzled mind was what led her to her current set of thoughts; Emma needed to make a change.

Emma had dug through the box of photos she had taken in her earliest days at the cottage while finding clothes to wear. She had grabbed a small pile of pictures from when she was still "Emelyn Theodosia," with auburn hair and sharp angles. Emma snatched up the pile of photos taken her third year where she came to terms that she looked at all like Remus, with light brown hair and softer features. For good measure, she grabbed a few photos where she was in between her looks, not quite one version of herself and not quite the other. She laid the photos out on the bathroom counter, looking at each picture in turn.

As subtle as the changes were, Emma still found herself surprised to look at herself. Not just because of her scars, but from how different she was. Her view of herself had been severely skewed once she realized that so much of her identity had been hidden behind Polyjuice. While she still saw herself in the mirror, she was always confused. She was very rarely the same person for very long, and without a clear view of her mind, it never made sense. Emma never put together that she woke up as a different person and went to bed as someone different. Every person she turned into had one thing in common – they all had auburn hair and green eyes. She wondered who the mastermind behind the Polyjuice was and how long it took to find different people to make her be a twin with.

Emma frowned as she looked at herself in the mirror. She held up an old picture of herself, trying to mentally compare herself to who she once was. Even though she didn't look the same, Emma couldn't stand looking at herself when she looked like Jude. She had always hated her red hair, hated how her face was shaped, and just held a general animosity to who she was. Emma wondered how much of that was from never looking the same or how much of it was her attitude towards Jude.

Objectively speaking, looking at the photos, she wasn't as ugly as she thought she was. Many of her issues stemmed from people making fun of her hair, but it was long and sleek and went well with her eyes. Still, she didn't like that she looked pointy and sharp in the same way that Draco was. She looked mean, and she didn't want to be mean, even though she had been a terribly mean child. That was another thing she couldn't bring herself to mention, and she felt that she needed to.

That was one of the reasons why Emma felt she liked looking like Remus, and as she looked at herself closer, oddly enough like Sirius. Emma had only projected Sirius's features onto her own, but she could see subtle touches. It was in the slight twist at the ends of her lips and the shape of her eyes. They were both what she knew but somehow looked different. Was she imagining it because she wanted to look more like Sirius? She had to be, but she wasn't entirely sure that was true. Emma just couldn't figure out how that could be at all possible.

Emma felt that she actually looked like a nice person; her features were soft like her voice. She had a lot of Remus's cadence, and she preferred it. Emma felt like she belonged in her body, like she made sense and that she finally belonged. She actually looked like their daughter, and it made her happy. A soft knock at the bathroom door made Emma jump and pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Yes?" Emma said, cringing as she looked at the photos laid out on the counter.

"Just wanted to make sure that you were all right," called Remus's voice through the door. "You've been in there for a while."

"I, er…yes, I'm all right," Emma replied. "I think." There was silence on the other side of the door for a moment, but Emma knew that Remus didn't move.

"Is it all right if I come in?" Remus asked after a few minutes.

A small sigh escaped Emma's lips as she set the picture in her hand down with the rest. She opened the door and gave Remus a small smile. He returned her smile and looked past her to look at the photos arranged on the counter.

"What are you doing, love?" he asked curiously.

"Thinking," Emma said quietly, turning back towards the mirror. "Comparing, I guess, is more like it. Not because of my scars," she added at the look on Remus's face. "I'm trying to come to terms with who I know I was and who I am now."

Remus hummed softly, stepping just behind Emma and dropping his arm around her shoulders to pull her close.

"And how's that going?"

"It's more difficult than I thought it would be," she admitted. "I want to talk about it…at some point. Just not yet."

"Well, whenever you're ready, I'm here. You know that."

"I know," Emma muttered. "Thank you." Remus bent down to kiss the top of Emma's head in response, and Emma snuggled into his side. "I think I want to cut my hair," Emma said quietly, meeting Remus's gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

"You want to cut your hair?" Remus asked.

Emma nodded, turning her head from side to side to survey herself. "I want to cut it short," she said. "I need…I just need one thing he hasn't touched. I need you to do it for me."

Remus knew right away what Emma was referring to, and he understood. He wanted to follow the care plan Dr. Wheeler suggested, worried Emma would start to push things, but this was something he could agree to. Remus knew all too well the desire to just remove everything Fenrir had ever touched as he had done the same. When everything settled down after the war, he had shaved his hair almost to his scalp, needing something new. He had regretted it almost immediately and went out to find a potion to grow it back out again, but it helped soothe a part of himself.

"How short do you want to cut it?"

Emma pulled her lip between her teeth, studying herself closely. "I don't know," she said, her gaze flicking over to Remus's reflection to look at his hair. "I think shorter than yours. Maybe. You and Papa both have longer hair, and I want it shorter."

Remus hummed softly, trying to figure out the best way to approach things. This was a significant change for Emma and a crucial one. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin it, and he nearly suggested having someone professional cut it, but Emma would refuse. She had made it very clear that she wasn't ready to leave the comfort of home just yet, and he wouldn't push her needlessly.

"Do you mind if Papa helps with this?" Remus asked after a while. "He's a little better at cutting hair than I am. A lot better, really. He used to be the one who cut all of our hair at school, and he certainly didn't let anyone else touch his hair."

"But I need you to cut it," Emma said worriedly.

"I will," Remus said gently, "but he has a better eye than I do with these things. You trusted him to cut your hair last, yes?" Emma hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"He can help only if you promise that you're the one to do it," Emma repeated, looking nervous.

"I promise."

True to his word, Remus started to cut Emma's hair until she finally decided to let Sirius take over. It was much easier than Sirius trying to guide Remus in what to do, and Emma trusted Sirius to do it right. Her only issue was that they refused to let her see what she looked like until they were done and sat her on the edge of the tub.

"All right," Sirius said when he felt that he was done. "Are you ready?"

"No," Emma laughed. She looked over at Remus before asking him, "Is it bad?"

"It's not bad at all," Remus said. "It's definitely different."

"Come on, go look," Sirius said, taking Emma's hands to pull her from the edge of the tub. "It looks adorable on you."

Emma was surprised when she looked at herself in the mirror. She didn't hate it at all, but it was definitely different than what she was used to. Emma never expected to see herself with short hair, but she felt it looked good on her.

She ran her hands through her hair, surprised at how it felt underneath her fingers. Sirius had cut her hair into a pixie cut, the ends choppy and cool looking. He left her hair a little longer on top to keep her waves and cut the sides and back short. She didn't realize that cutting her hair would make her change her mind about herself so much, and she couldn't stop staring at herself. But then she looked back at Remus in the reflection of the mirror and burst into laughter.

"Oh, no," Emma said through her laughter. "Now I really look like you!"

"Here's the thing, though, you're actually cute," Remus said. "I am not."

Sirius looked at Emma in the mirror, lips pursing slightly. "No, you don't look like Moony," he said after a long moment. "I mean, you're certainly cuter –" Sirius grinned as Remus elbowed him "– but you look like you. You look confident and strong, just like the brave and intelligent girl you've always been. All you needed was to…step out from behind the figurative curtain."

Emma finally met Sirius's gaze in the mirror, looking unsure. Sirius stepped past Remus and hugged Emma from behind, pulling her back against his chest so he could hug her tightly.

"Really look at yourself," Sirius said, lifting a hand up to fluff Emma's hair and parting it to the side. "I see an incredibly beautiful girl looking back at me in that mirror. I see my brilliant daughter, who isn't afraid to fight for the things she believes in and has so much to give the world. I don't see Moony, or…" Sirius trailed off for a moment, frowning slightly as he looked closer at Emma. "The point is, I see Emma Hope, and that's who you have always been."

"I'm not confident _or_ strong," Emma muttered.

"Do you mind if I try something? I think you need to see how much of a star you really are," Sirius said. Emma gave a small and unsure nod, and a smile crossed Sirius's face as he let go of Emma. He left the bathroom, leaving Emma and Remus confused, and returned with Emma's eyeliner and mascara, which she eyed suspiciously.

"Now, you absolutely don't need it, and I know you've just had a bath, but I think you need to see yourself differently," he said, turning Emma to face him. "Close your eyes and let me work my magic."

" _You_ know how to apply eyeliner?" Emma asked dubiously.

"God, I think he could put makeup on better than half the girls in our year," Remus said.

"Papa wore _makeup_?" Emma asked Remus, her jaw dropping.

"I was a _rock star_ ," Sirius said with his lopsided smile. "Used to piss my parents off, and it was brilliant. Now – close your eyes."

Emma still wasn't sure that Sirius would do a good job, but she hadn't touched her makeup in weeks. Perhaps he had a point, and it wouldn't hurt to see what she looked like. The thought had crossed her mind several times, but she couldn't convince herself to try. With a sigh, Emma closed her eyes and shook her head as Sirius guided her back to the edge of the tub. There were only two outcomes – she was going to love it, or she was going to hate it. Emma tried to have no expectations either way.

"All right, you can look now," Sirius said brightly after a while.

Several emotions went through Emma all at once when she looked at herself. It was the first time she had been able to separate her appearance and see herself as an individual. She was surprised and then in awe until finally, she could see the smallest inkling of what everyone tried to tell her. Even if she didn't feel strong or brave or confident, she could certainly look it.

"Daddy, you said I could change my mind about taking ballet classes, yeah?" Emma asked.

"Do you think you want to go back?" Remus asked, passing a quick look to Sirius of sheer relief. Emma gave a small nod.

"Just…only if I can wear long sleeves," she said. "Or something else."

Remus promised he would find out in the morning and Emma's smile was the brightest he had seen in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm learning that some of you don't GO TO BED when you're reading my fic over on Discord. So this is my reminder to - GO TO BED, PLEASE. The fic isn't going anywhere.
> 
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	23. Roots

Life at the cottage moved slowly and quickly all at once. Days went by in the blink of an eye, and nights stretched out longer than Emma could have ever imagined. Arguably speaking, Emma was happy, or at least as happy as she could allow herself to be. Emma loved having Remus and Sirius in one spot, and most days, she adored that they were safe within their little bubble. Other than a shopping trip for Emma to finally get new clothes and refresh her toiletries and dance classes, they remained home. Remus would sometimes head out to get groceries or take away, leaving Emma with Sirius, but it was okay. She was happy, they were happy – it was _almost_ perfect.

Not every day was perfect bliss. Sirius frequently struggled with his issues from Azkaban and spent nearly as much time as a man as he did a dog. When Sirius was really having a difficult day, he would go out into the yard to find Buckbeak, who liked to wander the woods. He would leave and not return until hours later, leaving Emma and Remus by themselves. Emma couldn't help but feel like it was because of her most days. Remus couldn't convince her that it wasn't partly her fault.

Emma's thoughts were frequently scattered, especially at night. When it was time to start getting ready for bed, Emma would slowly lose her focus, and the walls she kept up would begin to crumble. Her Friday appointments with Dr. Wheeler were meant to keep her from losing herself to her thoughts, but it was difficult. There were too many things on her mind, and seemingly at all hours of the day. Emma desperately wished she could shut her mind off for longer than a few minutes.

Their first week together was spent trying to figure out a routine. Emma didn't think it would be difficult finding a routine with Remus, they had one before, but even that was challenging. Though the cottage had been home for three years, it felt like the first time she was there all over again. That feeling was further compounded the moment July 31st, a tough day for all of them, rolled into August 1st.

Harry's birthday had left Sirius feeling particularly morose. Sirius wanted to fly out to Surrey to surprise Harry, and Remus had to remind him of all the reasons why that was a terrible idea. The argument that followed between the two was explosive, and Emma quickly retreated to her room to snuggle with Figaro. She didn't think it was a good idea to point out that she was having a difficult day, and she _really_ didn't want to draw attention to her jealousy. Sometimes it felt like all Sirius could do was talk about Harry, and she was getting pushed to the side. It was a stupid feeling for her to have, especially on Harry's birthday, but the feeling was there all the same.

Emma barely even reacted when she heard the back door slamming, Buckbeak's squawk, the strong whipping of wind from Buckbeak's wings, and then nothing. She allowed herself a few tears to fall, which she quickly wiped away, and curled up underneath her covers with Figaro. It was one of the days that Emma questioned whether she genuinely wanted _all_ of them together or if she wanted to be selfish and keep both her fathers to herself.

The silence stretched on for what felt like a long time until there was a soft knock on her door. Emma didn't answer and curled herself around Figaro further, letting the kitten play with her fingers. She lifted her head slightly when her door opened a few moments later, and Remus peered in.

"Do you mind having company?" Remus asked with a sad smile. As if Emma would ever say no after the argument that he had with Sirius.

She picked Figaro up and moved herself to free up space on her bed. It didn't take long at all for them to get situated in their usual positions. The only thing different was Figaro enjoyed cuddling and liked to curl up on Remus's stomach.

"We do this a lot," Emma commented, looking up at Remus with slight amusement.

"We do," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then proceeding to pet Figaro, who purred happily. "I'm sorry," Remus added after a few minutes.

"For what?" Emma asked.

"Sirius," he said with a slightly watery laugh. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Emma gave a small shrug in response, curling up closer to Remus. "It's fine," she said.

"No, no, it's not," Remus said. "This time is supposed to be for you, and it's meant to be relaxing and calm. Sirius gets a little…"

Remus didn't need to finish for Emma to understand all the unspoken things he was trying to say. Emma understood because she was equally as guilty of being impulsive, just like Sirius. She didn't entirely blame Sirius for wanting to go and surprise Harry, but still…

"Do you think he'll come back?"

"I think he will," Remus replied, not sounding too sure. "I'm hoping he just needs some time to get his thoughts together, and he realizes it's a terrible idea. If he gets caught…"

That was a thought they tried to avoid thinking about as much as possible.

"Maybe we should get Harry a cake," Emma said quietly. "Or a card, or something…I could stay here and see if Papa comes back if you wanted to do that."

"You think we should?"

"It's his birthday. I haven't written back to him still. Would be nice to send him something at least…especially if…" Emma trailed off, afraid of betraying the thoughts she actually had. Somehow, she had a feeling Remus already knew what she was thinking, but he didn't question her.

Remus sighed, squeezing Emma tightly to his side. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I could head out later if Sirius comes back –"

"It's fine. Really," Emma insisted, giving Remus a small smile. "I think I can handle being here alone for a little while."

Another sigh escaped Remus's lips, and he pressed another kiss to Emma's forehead and wrapped both his arms around her. "I really do have the best daughter in the world," Remus said softly. "I have no idea what I did in my life to deserve having such a sweet child. I truly am the luckiest man in the world to have you."

"I'm even luckier to have you," Emma murmured in response, allowing herself to relax into Remus's embrace. She would always feel like she got the better end of the deal.

Sirius returned to the cottage hours later, looking no happier than before, and immediately transformed into Padfoot. At some point, Remus and Sirius must have talked as things seemed normal by the time Emma went to bed that night.

August 1st brought forth far more emotions than Emma could have ever expected to have. There was something that felt incredibly wrong about everything. She was home, and that made her happy, but she had too many conflicting thoughts. Everything up until that day three years prior had been so incredibly unfair. Her life was too entangled with Fenrir's, and it frustrated her to no end. She _still_ couldn't separate her feelings as much as she desperately wanted to, and it left her feeling guilty and disgusted with herself.

Emma _wanted_ to talk to Remus about it, but the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him. How could she ever admit to Remus that the feelings she had for him were the same with Fenrir, even after everything? She couldn't. Emma wasn't the daughter Remus thought he had, and it made her sick. She was a terrible excuse for a daughter, and she knew it. There was no reason for her to feel the way she did about Fenrir.

Rather than being happy about finally being with her family for three years, Emma spent the day half on the verge of tears. She took up residence on the couch for the day, buried under a pile of blankets. Mindless television seemed like a much better idea than allowing herself to think about all of the things she _didn't_ want to think about. Remus and Sirius tried to get her up to do something at several points throughout the day, but Emma refused to move. Not even chocolate cake could tempt Emma out of her blankets.

One of the things Emma seemed to forget was that she had two incredibly stubborn fathers. Rather than trying to get her to move, they went a different route. As the sky started to grow dark, Remus had grown tired of watching Emma do nothing. With a slightly pointed look over at Sirius that Emma completely missed, Remus set into action. He wasn't about to let Emma brood any longer.

Remus lifted Emma's blankets, ignoring her disgruntled noises of protest. He shoved himself into the empty space in front of her, turning on his side to face her. Remus wrapped his arms firmly around Emma, pulling her close. Sirius, undeterred by the lack of space on the couch, transformed into Padfoot. He wedged himself into the slim space between Emma and the back of the couch, just wanting to be close to his family.

Emma had been doing well with fighting back her tears up until that point. The moment Remus started to tell her everything he loved about her, she broke. She couldn't handle him telling her every single one of his happiest memories over the past few years.

"I know what's bothering you," Remus said after a while, leaning back just enough so that he could clean Emma's face of tears with his sleeves. Emma couldn't meet Remus's gaze, bracing herself for what she hoped he wouldn't say. "I know that you don't want to talk about it right now, but I think we should at some point. You're not the only one who has felt the way you do about Fenrir…Even after everything."

That forced Emma to look at Remus, her brow furrowing and tears slowing with his confession. She never would have expected Remus to tell her _that_ of all things. Remus had told her of unspeakable things, things that she kept tucked in the deep recesses of her mind. It didn't seem right, not after what he told her about himself. It made her heart ache in a way she didn't entirely expect, and it made things better and worse at the same time.

"I think you forget just how much I've gone through, love," Remus said gently, pulling Emma's head back to his chest. "I don't want you to ever think that I'll ever love you any less because of your situation. You didn't ask for your life to turn out the way it did; I never asked for mine to wind up the way it is, either. I don't want you to feel as though you can't talk to me because you have always been able to. You know that I love you, and I will never judge you for anything."

Emma snuggled closer to Remus, and Padfoot's furry head dropped onto her arm, not wanting to be left out of the cuddle.

"I'm not the only one who understands what you've gone through, you know," Remus added. "You can talk to Sirius, too – he won't judge you either. You, my dear, have been born into a family of misfits who have experienced the same things as yourself."

It took Emma a long moment to understand what Remus was referring to, not sure of what Sirius could have experienced. She had to think hard about it, and then her thoughts brought her back to the first conversation she had with Sirius. The tremors that he showed her wasn't from Azkaban – it's because someone used the Cruciatus on him as well. Emma turned her head to look at Padfoot, green eyes meeting silver. She freed up one of her hands to pet the top of his head, and his tail gave a _thumpthumpthump_ against the couch.

They really were a family of misfits, weren't they? As if having a werewolf and a convicted felon for parents wasn't strange enough, they also had childhood trauma to share. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to talk about the things that sat in her mind – they could both understand her.

Emma ruminated over the possibility of talking to them, _actually_ talking to them about everything in her mind. It had become easy with Dr. Wheeler – the woman became a third party to Emma's thoughts, nothing was personal. Talking to Remus about anything involving Fenrir or talking to Sirius about anything remotely related to who knows what seemed terrifying. Even if neither of them would judge her, she still had the crippling fear of hurting them.

"Now, what do you say about that cake?" Remus said after a while. "You haven't eaten a thing all day, and I'm afraid your daily chocolate intake is severely lacking."

The growling of Emma's stomach answered for her.

Each day ebbed and flowed, blending not quite seamlessly into the next. Emma took the time to catch up on her summer work with both Remus and Sirius's help. Sirius seemed to enjoy Emma's summer work more than she did, and he did most of the helping. He seemed thrilled to be refreshing his knowledge of magic, and Emma wasn't opposed to extra information. She decided not to work on her Potion's essay, a move that Remus questioned, but Sirius whole-heartedly agreed with.

"If it weren't for Snivellus, this mess wouldn't have even started," Sirius sneered, his tone biting. He threw his arm around Emma's shoulders in clear solidarity with her decision. Remus pulled a face that said he was fully prepared to argue that point, but Sirius wasn't done talking. "If Emma doesn't want to do her bloody Potion's essay, then she doesn't have to do her essay."

It only served to put a pensive look on Remus's face as he leaned back in his armchair. Emma hated when Remus looked thoughtful because it meant just about anything could come out of his mouth. Even when Sirius had moved on from the conversation and moved along to checking Emma's Charms essay, Remus was still thinking. Emma kept casting him looks from where she sat on the floor in front of the coffee table next to Sirius, not liking Remus's silence.

"I wonder if it's worth revisiting the idea of getting Emma a tutor," he finally said when Sirius looked over at him. "It was the solution we were considering last year when Snape wasn't yet willing to let Emma back into class. It's not as though money will be an issue to pay for one, now."

"No," Emma said sharply, shooting Remus a look. "He gets paid for it already so he can do his bloody job. I don't particularly relish the idea of a year with _Snivellus_ , but the greasy bastard makes good money. He should do his job instead of sticking his large nose in everyone's business."

Remus shot Sirius a look and made a vague gesture in Emma's direction, but Sirius only barked out with laughter. Sirius pulled Emma into his arms, pressing a very loud kiss to her hair with his joy.

"That's my girl!" Sirius said jubilantly, making Remus press a hand to his forehead.

"Merlin save us all if Snape ever hears her call him that," Remus groaned. He rubbed his forehead, looking less than amused. "Emma, please just think about it. Is it because you're worried about money again?"

"No," Emma said, snatching her Charms essay off the table to add it to the pile of work she had managed to complete. "I'm just making the point that if he wasn't a slimy git, then nothing would have happened. If you two are going to force me to go back to Hogwarts, then he gets to deal with the utmost pleasure of teaching me. I know what I need to do to get by with the bare minimum in his class."

"Emma, I don't want to see your grades drop –"

"Who said anything about my grades dropping? I'm just doing the least amount of work."

"She's our daughter," Sirius said to Remus with a bright smile. "Our wonderful, beautiful, and absolutely brilliant daughter. Oh, she is going to be such a troublemaker this year, and I can't _wait_ to hear the stories."

A sly grin crossed Emma's face as she looked over at Sirius.

"That is a terrifying prospect," Remus sighed. "Right, well, regardless – money won't be an issue for you. If at any point you feel you would prefer to have a tutor, that can be arranged. Though that brings in another issue…"

"What issue would there be?" Sirius asked.

"I hardly doubt we'll have much luck finding a tutor for a half-werewolf child," Remus said dryly. "At least before there was relative anonymity. Now there's no hiding considering her face has been plastered all over the Prophet."

"Throw enough money in their direction, and they'll come scrambling," Sirius said, waving Remus off. "Don't even need to give a name."

"And who would do the interview?"

"I would like to think I could interview my own Potion's tutor," Emma said.

"I'm sure you could, love, but I would like to make sure that everything checks out. I'm not going to let just anyone around you," Remus said, giving Emma a look that told her there was no point in arguing. "I ask very little of you, Emma, you know that. Right now, there are very few people I trust your safety and education to."

"So if money's not an issue anymore, then I don't go back to Hogwarts. I stay at home, and you can teach me everything I need to know."

"Emma, sweetheart, we have talked about this already."

"It's a good idea," Emma huffed.

Remus sighed and met Sirius's gaze. "I did wind up becoming reacquainted with your little cousin during my stay at the Ministry," Remus said to Sirius.

"That narrows it down, Moons," Sirius said, raising an eyebrow. "Which one of my family members did you manage to meet?"

"Nymphadora, actually."

"Dora? Little Dora? Andy and Ted's daughter?"

"The very same. She only just completed her Auror training, actually."

"Nymphadora?" Emma interjected, looking between Remus and Sirius curiously.

"Er, Tonks," Remus replied, giving Emma a sheepish grin at her look of surprise.

" _Tonks?_ " Emma asked incredulously.

"Which makes her your cousin, too, Pumpkin," Sirius said, completely missing Emma's look of confusion. "What's the point you're trying to make, Moons?"

"Well, maybe we could somehow consult Andy and Ted on the situation. They could possibly serve as a proxy in this situation," Remus suggested lightly. "And perhaps now would be a good time to introduce Emma to the Black family tree."

Sirius looked over at Emma and immediately began to snicker at the lost expression on Emma's face. "That's a very appropriate reaction," Sirius said, pulling a loose piece of parchment out of Emma's pile and grabbing a quill. "Now, I wouldn't normally give a shit about this, but, er…might be a good idea to know who you're related to. The Black family is very select ' _Toujours pur'_ and all that shit, but good luck finding a Pure-blood family that doesn't have a Black somewhere. At least half-bloods like you have a chance."

Emma wasn't sure that she liked the idea of that and moved her things off to the side.

"I'll go get us all something to drink," Remus said wisely. "I have a feeling Emma's going to need something once she actually sees how it's broken down."

Remus greatly underexaggerated just how much Emma of a drink she would need. She almost considered asking Remus to give her a shot of Firewhiskey because Sirius's family tree was horrendous. Emma was struggling to understand how Sirius's parents were his cousins. She looked between Sirius and Remus with complete and utter horror, both men looking amused by her reaction.

"So, what I'm gathering from this…is nearly no one I know is safe because we're all related in some way," Emma said with a frown. She looked back down at the chart Sirius drew out and picked it up, stabbing her finger at the line that said 'Weasley.' "Daddy, this is a problem."

Remus gave a slight shrug. "Draco didn't appear to be a problem," he said, biting back his amused grin at Emma's indignant shout.

"DADDY!" Emma said sharply. "I didn't _know_ so, therefore, that is _not_ my fault! God, _and_ Persephone, too?" Emma threw the chart back onto the table and leaned forward over the top of the coffee table. Sirius rubbed Emma's back gently in sympathy.

"Well, at least you can say you've experienced something of Pure-blood life," Sirius said with a sigh. "Everyone goes through it a few times at Hogwarts."

"I spent _weeks_ making fun of people for this exact issue, and now it's come back to bite me in the arse!" Emma moaned, leaning heavily against Sirius with a pout. "I don't like your family."

Sirius snorted. "That makes two of us," he said.

"Now what do I do?"

"Well, it's not as though you're actually related to Sirius," Remus pointed out. "And even if you were, there's enough distance that it wouldn't matter."

"That's not the point," Emma said, waving Remus off. "The point is that if I _were_ related to Sirius, George would be my _cousin_."

"Your…fourth cousin, I think," Sirius frowned, looking at the family tree he made. "Fifth? Sixth? I get lost trying to figure this out…"

"Papa," Emma whined. "This is terrible. I get my first _real_ boyfriend, and now he can't _be_ my boyfriend."

"I mean, he could be –"

Emma nearly shrieked but turned her face into Sirius's chest instead. "I can't _be_ with George!" Emma said. She sat up straight all of a sudden and looked at Remus and Sirius with wide eyes. "Please tell me that we're not related to Fenrir somewhere, too."

"No!" Remus and Sirius said at the same time, looking just as distressed as Emma had been moments before.

"He's certainly not related to the Blacks," Sirius said firmly.

"And he's absolutely not a Lupin in any regards," Remus said, his forehead wrinkled.

"And we're not somehow weaved into the weird line of Blacks anywhere?" Emma asked Remus.

"No, not at all. I don't know who we're descended from, but it's certainly not a Black," Remus said. "There were more Pure-blood families years ago, but they either died out or married too many Muggles."

"Well, that's something, I guess," Emma said with a frown, leaning back into Sirius. "I have to deal with him enough. Not sure I could handle that as well. But what do I do about George?"

"What do you want to do?" Remus asked.

Emma had no idea what she wanted to do. On the one hand, she wasn't actually related to Sirius, but on the other, the idea of the entire thing was disturbing to her.

"I feel like how Luke must have felt when he found out Leia was his sister," Emma said when she looked over at Remus. "And they had actual planets between them – I've only got one bloody school." Emma looked down at the chart on the table again. "I think I need to keep this so I can cross-reference the thing."

"Well, the good news is that you don't need to think about it right at this exact moment."

"Which means I'll be thinking about it nearly every day."

"Or I could give you an entirely new topic to distract you."

Emma's frown deepened as she looked back over at Remus. "Why do I have a feeling I'm going to somehow hate this conversation more than looking at Papa's bloody family tree?"

"Because you will."

Remus's topic of choice was a definite distraction from the mess that was Sirius's family tree. Emma had wanted to know more about the werewolf side of her but almost immediately regretted it. She was disappointed to find out that she wouldn't grow any taller, though she had stopped growing a few years prior. Emma had tried to maintain some sort of hope that a miracle would occur, and she would grow, but that wouldn't be the case. She felt suddenly very self-conscious realizing that she was in her "adult" body. It seemed so strange to her when she was only going to be fifteen and be of age among werewolves. Even being an adult at seventeen felt weird to her, but fifteen was only a month away. There was nearly no time for her to process that she was more mature, both physically and mentally, than her classmates. She certainly didn't feel it.

"Merlin, the number of times Moony had to shave when we were at school," Sirius said quietly, slipping back into remembering their time at Hogwarts. "He would wake up in the morning, shave, and then by the time lunch came around, he already had a bit of a beard coming back in."

Remus ran a hand over his jaw with a frown. "Still not any different," he said with a sigh. "Just one of those things I had to get over because there was no changing it. But that's only one half of things…"

Emma could have gone her entire life without having to sit through yet another conversation about sex. She didn't want to know anymore. If she thought the "normal" magical equivalent of sexual education was terrible, it was worse with werewolves. Having to listen to Remus talk about things like "fertility" and further feelings during the full moon was a nightmare. Something that Emma thought could be mildly straight forward had somehow become more complicated. It was all things she never had to consider and never planned to think about. To make things worse, even Sirius had any input in the conversation. Every time Sirius would open his mouth to add something, Emma's face twisted further in disgust.

"Ordinarily, I wouldn't have even considered bringing any of this up, but I would rather you know. I don't want you to get into a situation where you actively forget what you are and that Soleil will most likely want to take over. I know it's incredibly uncomfortable," Remus said apologetically. "It's important for you to understand that things are different. You're as human as you can possibly be, but you have a little friend in your mind at all times. To make it worse, you will be of age in one world, and I can't change that. The rules are completely different for us, and I don't want you to be left in the dark. I don't anticipate you being in the company of other werewolves, but I've been proven wrong too many times. I didn't know any of this information until I was older than you, and I had to figure most of it out myself."

"I feel like this is a conversation that I should be having with Elara and not you," Emma groaned.

"And you will because there's more that you need to know," Remus said, giving Emma a sympathetic smile. "I can only explain things from a male werewolf's perspective. My job is to make sure that you know everything that you need to know, and I've done a miserable job of it. I'm making it a point to make sure you know _everything_."

Emma only let out a single, bitter, "Ha" in response.

"Sweetheart, let me put it this way – at least you're having this conversation with me and not with Fenrir."

There was absolutely no way that Emma could argue that point. She had many conversations with Fenrir, but luckily the current topic was _not_ one of them. The idea of talking to Fenrir openly about the concept of sex was a disturbing thought, and Emma was very grateful it was with Remus instead.

It was a slow process, but conversations started to become more open. Emma slowly began to talk through her older memories with Remus and tried to voice her conflicting thoughts on Fenrir. Remus listened patiently, never interrupting her and offering comforting hugs whenever she needed them. Even though the conversations were difficult for both of them, Remus forced himself to get through it for Emma's sake. Luckily the moment the conversation would turn to Fenrir, Sirius would make himself scarce and spend time with Buckbeak. Emma couldn't handle having conversations about Fenrir with Sirius in the room.

"It's what he does," Remus said. "He…he wedges himself in wherever he can until you can't get him out."

"But I hate that I can't _stop_ feeling how I do," Emma said, feeling incredibly broken. "I know what he did to me, I know what he was going to do to me…and I just remember everything he ever did."

"It was the same for me," Remus said sadly. "He made me feel like there would never be anything else, all the time. There were so many days where he tried to show me what life could be like if I stayed with the pack. For a while, I almost believed him, but then I would remember you and be reminded that there was another way of living."

"That's so much different than what he taught me, though," Emma sighed, pressing the palms of her hands into her eye sockets. "He told me that it was better that I know all aspects of things. He never outright _told_ me he was a werewolf, but I knew that his life was much different than mine. Fenrir never said that he was the only thing I would have, just that he was making sure that I was taken care of until you came along, essentially. He never told me that you even existed, just that there would be a day where he wouldn't be there all the time."

"I think he learned from me," Remus replied after a moment. "He had too much of a hold on me, and it worked for some time, but I had somewhere else to be. I think by the end of the war, he realized that no matter what he did, I wasn't going to stay."

"But that's another problem," Emma said. "He has it in his head that if he has me, then you'll go right back to him."

Remus's lips pressed into a thin line. "He's not entirely wrong," Remus admitted. "It's not as though I have much keeping me here besides you. It's not something I would necessarily want to do; I enjoy modern conveniences, after all. But if for whatever absolutely awful reason, you found yourself in that situation, I would go."

"What about Papa?"

It looked like Remus was doing some quick thinking as he peered over in the direction of the fireplace. "At the end of the day, you're much more important to me," he said slowly, pulling Emma into his side. "I will never say that I don't love Sirius because I do, but if I had to choose between the two of you, I would always choose you. Really, no matter what, any choice I'm given, I'll always choose you. You are what I care most about in the world, and I need you to understand that. I am always going to love you. No matter how scattered or how confused you are, I will never stop loving you."

It was possibly one of the most reassuring things Remus could have told her. She still couldn't stop herself from feeling guilty over everything else, but for once, she finally believed Remus.

Time moved impossibly faster after that point, and Emma hated it. Each day that passed was one day closer to the inevitable. As much as Emma wanted to stay home, she had no faith in the Ministry allowing her to stay home. Something was going to go wrong, and she knew it deep down in the very fiber of her being. What that "something" was, Emma wasn't sure, but she knew it would happen.

There wasn't enough time for anything – not enough time for cuddles or late-night ice cream; not enough time for batting around small objects between the three of them for Figaro to play with. There wasn't enough time for dances in the kitchen or listening to stories that made Emma laugh until her face hurt from smiling too much. There wasn't enough time to play in their new garden or figure out how the cottage would be renovated. Somehow among every bit of pain that she felt, Emma managed to find small glimpses of happiness.

Sirius took off with Buckbeak three nights before they had to be at the Ministry after Emma's appointment with Dr. Wheeler. They had the conversation that he would have to head back out on the run again, but it still bothered Emma to see him leave. She had finally gotten to know what life with her family would be like, and they had to be torn apart again. Sirius promised that he would write as soon as he was settled for longer than a few days, but it still left Emma worried.

Emma abandoned sleeping in her room that night, feeling much more settled with Remus there. Having Figaro helped during the night, but she hadn't gone to bed without both Remus and Sirius with her. Her sleep routine was interrupted, and she struggled to cope. The next day wasn't any better.

Waking up to hear Snape's drawl from the living room talking to Remus was the last thing Emma wanted to deal with. She grumpily pulled Remus's blanket around herself like a cloak and stomped into the living room. Emma didn't bother masking the way her lips curled in disgust as she met Snape's gaze.

"What is _he_ doing here," Emma growled out at Remus.

Remus raised a hand to try and placate Emma's anger. "He brought your first dose of Wolfsbane," Remus said in explanation. "You know there's only a week left until the full, sweetheart."

"I'm not taking it."

"Emma –"

"No, I'm not taking it if _he_ made it," Emma snarled. "He's the reason everything got ruined."

"If you recall, _you're_ the one who didn't come to my classroom to make the Wolfsbane Potion as was required," Snape drawled, sounding very bored.

"Excuse me?" Emma said slowly.

"Emma –" Remus said his tone warning.

"No," Emma snapped at Remus. "He is _not_ going to come into _our_ home and tell me that I did something wrong when none of that was my fault. He made the bloody potion that night, and _he_ was the one who decided to leave it because he insisted on trying to frame Papa. If he wasn't such a nosy bastard, he wouldn't have nearly gotten himself killed. If it weren't for him, we could have just gone home like normal, I wouldn't have been attacked, and I wouldn't have been bloody miserable all fucking summer."

Emma's chest was painfully tight, angry tears in her eyes threatening to fall from her eyes. The last thing she wanted to deal with was Snape, and he wasn't going to get the satisfaction of her tears. She shot Remus a frustrated look and gave Snape the dirtiest look she could manage. With a growl, Emma whirled back around and went back into Remus's room, slamming the door behind her.

When Remus finally entered his room moments later, Emma was so sure he would give her a lecture. He sat down on the edge of the mattress next to her and set down the vial of Wolfsbane. With a soft sigh, Remus stroked her cheek with his knuckles, and Emma nearly growled at him just because it annoyed her how quickly it calmed her.

"I'm proud of you for finally saying that what happened wasn't your fault," Remus said gently. "I should've woken you up, but I was taken off guard. I completely lost track of time."

"I think I'm tired of blaming myself for everything," Emma muttered, closing her eyes and trying to focus on the rhythmic pattern of Remus stroking her cheek. "It wasn't my fault, and it wasn't yours," she added, knowing that Remus would insist it was his fault next. "I'm not taking the Wolfsbane if he made it. I would rather suffer again."

"Emma, _please_ ," Remus said gently. "I don't need you getting sick from not taking the potion again. I know last time wasn't your fault, but please – for me."

Emma opened her eyes to level Remus with a displeased look. She took the potion.

Sunday went almost similarly to Saturday in terms of Emma's mood, but Remus was careful to make sure that Emma didn't see Snape. Just like at Hogwarts, they jokingly clinked their bottles of Wolfsbane together before downing the potion with matching faces of disgust. It was such a ridiculous ritual they had, but somehow it made the process a little bit easier.

They kept their conversations as mundane as possible as they packed up Emma's trunk, hoping that it would only have to be unpacked at home again. Remus tried to be optimistic, but Emma couldn't be. She tried to maintain some level of enthusiasm, but it was difficult. They had long conversations over what Emma should actually take with her, torn between whether or not she should pack her blanket.

"Do you want to take it to school with you?" Remus finally asked.

"But what about holidays?"

"Sweetheart, you always make it sound like I am going to let you be uncomfortable," Remus said with a laugh.

"I know you wouldn't, I just…" Emma trailed off and threw herself into Remus's arms, needing to be close. "I'm worried about tomorrow."

"I know, but we mustn't think negatively," Remus whispered.

"Only you would use a word like 'mustn't,'" Emma muttered, burying her face into Remus's chest. A small smile crossed her face at the familiar rumble of his chest as Remus chuckled.

"It's the truth fy nghariad bach," Remus insisted. "Let's just enjoy tonight, and we'll worry about things when we get to the Ministry. It'll be fine. No matter what happens, we're always going to have each other, and that's what matters. No matter how much distance there is, I'm not going anywhere. I promised you that you would never be alone, and that's a promise that I always intend to keep. We'll get through things just as we always do – with each other."

Emma didn't feel that it would be enough, but there wasn't much to do to change it. What happened next was going to happen, and she would try to latch onto Remus's optimism. She didn't want to be miserable for potentially her last night home, so she wouldn't be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been a while since it's taken me forever to write a chapter. For some reason this chapter was just not flowing and was scrapped multiple times. I finally hit a groove and things started to fit together.
> 
> However - in the middle of writing this chapter, I decided to write out the Black family tree and wanted to sob. I'm throwing a lot of canon, but it was always super important for me to leave Sirius's family tree mostly intact. This meant I ran into many many many unfortunate discoveries. That being said, I'm curious - should Emma stay with George? We've had some fascinating (and unfortunate) ship possibilities over on Discord, so I'm curious to know what suggestions will be made.
> 
> Also, this is me kindly requesting kudos and comments and the whatnot. I love talking to everyone.
> 
> Also, note for all of my late night readers - **go to bed.**
> 
> **come find me on:**   
>  [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/mymoonyandstars)   
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> 
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> 


	24. Keeping Score

Emma woke up on Monday morning feeling beyond sick to her stomach. The idea of going to the Ministry just knowing they weren't going to let her go back home worried her. She had no idea where they could possibly send her, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know. Though it was insisted that she wouldn't go back to Saint Nicholas's, Emma didn't trust that it wasn't still an option. If she remembered correctly, there were still two other facilities she could be placed in. There was Kindred Spirits in London, and the other, Hepzibah House, was somewhere up in Scotland. Emma didn't like the idea of having to go to either as she knew Fenrir would most likely be quick to follow.

Fenrir was a unique problem because there were things that she didn't understand about his obsession with her. It was clear that Fenrir knew a lot about her family, and clearly herself, and she had spent days pondering his motives.

At first, Emma thought it was about the money, but that didn't make any sense. After going through the entirety of the Black family tree, Sirius walked Emma through the vast fortune the family had. She still couldn't wrap her mind around the idea of having money, and it was overwhelming, but it didn't seem like it was the sort of thing Fenrir cared about.

The few things she learned about Fenrir told her he wasn't struggling financially in any capacity. He had his own business ventures within the pack outside of everything else he was doing. Even if he didn't, Fenrir was menacing enough that it was easy for him to get work in the shadier parts of the magical (and Muggle) communities. Fenrir's moral compass was severely skewed, and it didn't appear that money was his motivation.

She had gone back to the deal Fenrir had made with Jude multiple times. For all the talk of being Fenrir's mate, Emma wasn't even entirely sure that was it anymore either. She had forced Remus to explain what exactly that meant, but he didn't have a clear answer because he didn't know. Fenrir wasn't a werewolf that ordinarily took a mate, so Remus was left completely baffled.

"Mates are complicated," Remus explained to her. "Werewolves, er, aren't necessarily monogamous, so for a werewolf to take a mate, it's with the understanding that it's meant to be lifelong. I suppose it's the werewolf equivalent of a spouse, but so few werewolves ever take a mate that I'm not entirely sure. I know there's a ritual to it, but I've never seen it."

"So, if there's a werewolf equivalent of marriage, is there one for divorce?" Emma asked pointedly.

Remus let out a quiet laugh of disbelief and nodded. "Of course," Remus said. "However, because magic is involved, I think anyone who takes a mate just remains with their mate. There's nothing to say that they can't be with others – an open marriage, if you will."

That had made Emma's nose crinkle with the thought. The fact Remus didn't have a definitive answer wasn't helpful. He had plenty of other information for her, such as pack dynamics and different roles, but she needed to understand what a mate was. The only information Emma had been able to gather from what Remus knew wasn't really helpful. It seemed like when someone had a role in the pack, that was their only role until they were moved. The only possibility Emma came up with is it was Fenrir's way of making sure that Emma would never truly gain power.

"It would make sense," Emma said, grimacing slightly at what she was about to say next. "Before that one full, Elara and I talked…"

Remus was not thrilled that Elara had told Emma so much, his expression turning less and less amused. Even after Emma finished talking, Remus continued to look stiff.

"I suppose you have a point," Remus eventually said with a sigh. "If he decides to have you as a mate, it doesn't necessarily mean he would allow you to serve as a leader. Just because he educated you in a way that you _could_ become a pack leader, it doesn't mean you would. The titles aren't the same, as any werewolf can take a mate."

"But that brings up another problem," Emma said quietly.

"What's that?"

"When Fenrir and Jude made their deal…there was the suggestion of…'pups,'" Emma said with a shudder. "And with…what he tried to do…"

"That will never happen," Remus said sharply.

The conversation had ended there as Sirius had come back into the house, but Emma wasn't entirely reassured. She was small, and Fenrir was huge compared to her. Emma was already tiny next to Remus, but she was practically a chew toy next to Fenrir. Fenrir was pure muscle, and though Emma wasn't completely weak, she doubted she could overpower Fenrir physically. She was an even match with her wand, but that wasn't guaranteed.

Whatever plan Fenrir had wasn't clear in the least, and Emma had no idea what to think. The only thing that she could think of was following Elara's initial advice – find out who Fenrir Greyback was before his bite. Hopefully, that would give her the answers that she needed.

At least with Jude, she had a very vague understanding of who he was. He was a mystery, but at least there was a clear motivation, as sick and twisted as it was. Jude was someone else that she needed to find information on, but she had a better starting point with him than with Fenrir.

She couldn't imagine that someone could so easily give a child to a werewolf with the hidden motive of having them killed for being a girl. It was an incredibly bitter pill to swallow that even if Margaret decided to keep her, Jude still wouldn't have been happy. Jude was so disgusted by the entire situation that he was willing to throw her literally to the wolves. The only bit of solace she could find was that Fenrir _didn't_ kill her because he didn't care.

It had made her wonder far too many times if things would have been different if she were a boy. Emma had spent hours having the internal debate with herself of whether or not things would have turned out how they did. From what she understood, Margaret still would have offered to give her to Remus and Sirius, but would things have been the same?

Would Sirius be happier with her instead of Harry? Would Remus still love her as much as he did if she was a boy? Emma tried not to think about it too much, but it crossed her mind frequently.

That led Emma to another frustrating situation; there was nothing wrong with Margaret. It had settled into her mind like a broken mantra – _there was nothing wrong._ It played out in her mind over and over again, and Emma had no idea how she was going to get those answers. She supposed she could ask Fenrir, but did she _want_ to be anywhere near Fenrir again? Absolutely not. Emma had worried herself sick multiple times over the three first years who had been drug into a situation they didn't need to be in. No matter how many times Remus told her there were Aurors watching their homes, Emma trusted nothing. Ellis working at the Ministry was enough evidence that nowhere was safe.

Emma had kept correspondence with the three first years while being home. They seemed happy with their new families, and that made Emma happy. Raewyn and Brennan had wound up going to a family together and became adopted siblings to a younger couple. Finley was adopted by an older couple and had older siblings that had graduated Hogwarts. Emma was happy that they were happy, glad to find that they had families where they belonged; she knew how important that was.

The sense of belonging to someone, _truly_ belonging to someone, was an overwhelming and heady feeling. Sometimes Emma had to take a step back to remind herself that she was where she belonged, if only the rest of the wizarding community felt the same.

It shouldn't have been of any real surprise that an unfamiliar owl found its way to Aurora's perch in the middle of her thinking of what to do about Fenrir. Emma frowned at the owl, trying to rationalize that it _couldn't_ be from Fenrir. With a sigh, Emma crossed over to the owl. She took the letter held between its beak and ran a hand down the owl's back.

"You want a treat, little guy?" Emma asked quietly, grinning slightly when the owl nipped at her finger. She reached over to her jar of Aurora's owl treats and held it out for the owl to take. "Does this require a response?" When the owl flew off, Emma had her answer.

Emma glanced over at her clock to check the time, and her frown deepened. The note was cutting things close, and it made Emma look out into the yard and into the woods. Remus had put his massive expanse of security charms back up, but that didn't mean anything when Fenrir knew where the cottage was. It was enough of a deterrent to keep Fenrir out, but Emma doubted that her time at the cottage was entirely free of him. Still, Emma was curious – perhaps the note wasn't from Fenrir at all.

> ' _I did what I could for you, but I can't help you today. You are on your own. Remember the things I taught you fy lleuad. You should know enough to figure things out on your own, but you're going to have to be smart about what you do. Your father and the dog wouldn't be the only ones upset if something were to happen to you – remember that. Yours, F'_

"Shit," Emma hissed as she hastily shoved the letter into her pocket. The fact Fenrir sent her a letter because _he_ was _worried_ was not reassuring. Fenrir Greyback was not someone who often worried, if at all. Emma desperately hoped that it didn't mean what she thought it did.

Emma startled at her bedroom door opened, and Remus's head popped into the room. He studied her for a moment, concern etched into every line of his face.

"Are you all right?" he asked, stepping into her room slowly. He held a bottle of Wolfsbane in one hand and shoved his free hand into his pocket.

"Y-yeah," Emma lied, giving Remus a shaky smile. Remus's eyes narrowed slightly, clearly not believing her. It was stupid to not tell Remus that Fenrir wrote to her, but it didn't seem worth it. She _knew_ it was ridiculous to not just tell him, but for some reason, Emma couldn't convince herself to just tell him. "Just nervous," Emma finally added, trying not to react when Remus's eyes flicked over to Aurora's perch.

"Of course," he said, his lips twitching into an uncertain smile. He lifted the bottle of Wolfsbane in his hand. "Should probably take this before we leave." It was an oddly fitting send-off.

Heading to the Ministry with all of her things in tow seemed like such overkill. Poor Figaro hated the Floo despite every precaution they had taken for the cat and meowed pathetically in her carrier. Remus gave Emma a sympathetic look as he cast a silencing spell on the carrier, and Emma felt terrible. She wanted nothing more than to take the kitten out and hold her, but there was an incredibly long list of rules for the day.

Speak only when spoken to, wands are to be left in a designated section of the room, no charms of any sort could be activated – the list went on and on. The appointment was only meant to determine whether Emma could stay home or not, but it felt like they were preparing for battle. Every piece of documentation that Remus and Emma had from the Ministry and elsewhere was carefully filed and put together. It seemed like overkill at first, but then Remus went over who would actually be present, and Emma was no longer surprised. Dolores Umbridge was one of their biggest enemies in the situation, and Emma wasn't looking forward to finally having a face to the name.

It was with sheer relief that they weren't going all the way down to the courtrooms. They dropped Emma's things off at the cloakroom, visited the wand weigh station (which Emma still didn't understand), and made their way to the lift. They only had to go to level two to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and over to the registration department. It was a much quicker trip than to level ten.

"It'll be fine," Remus said, grabbing onto Emma's hand to keep her from pulling at her clothes the moment they stepped off the lift. "I'll be there the entire time."

Emma shot Remus a look and pulled her hand from his so that she could tuck herself under his arm. "Yes, well, you've already done this several times," Emma muttered. "This entire thing is stupid."

"I know it is," Remus sighed. "But it's just how it is for…people like me…"

"And that's why I'm going to change all of this the very moment I can," Emma said. "No one should have to go through this…"

Emma had stupidly thought that she would know right away what Fenrir was worried about as she followed Remus. She had wanted it to be evident the moment they got off the lift, but there were no indicators. Nothing stuck out as odd, the witches and wizards they passed cast glances at them, but no one seemed out of place.

It wasn't until Remus started to slow down as they approached a junction in the hallway that Emma started to get worried. He eventually slowed to a complete halt, putting a hand on Emma's arm to keep her where she was.

"I should have known," Remus growled out quietly.

"It's Jude, isn't it?" Emma asked, her stomach dropping when Remus looked at her and gave a slight nod. She hoped that Fenrir's note was just going to be something to throw her off, but if Jude was there…Well, she didn't entirely blame Fenrir for being worried. Fenrir had made it clear that he wasn't fond of Jude, but it bothered Emma that he refused to do anything about it. "Now what? If he's here…"

Remus frowned and shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted, rubbing his jaw roughly. "How much do you know about Jude?"

"Not enough, I don't think," Emma replied, her voice breaking. She _knew_ something would go wrong, but she didn't expect it to be because Jude was there. "This was just supposed to be with us."

"Yes, but if Jude's here, then that means…" Remus trailed off, a long stream of Welsh escaping his lips. He turned to Emma, placing his hands on her shoulders and pinning her with a hard stare. "This is going to make things a lot more difficult. This is a very new development, which means things will take longer than they should have. My solicitor is only going to be able to do so much in this situation, especially if Jude has one as well. Things are automatically going to go in his favor because he's…human."

"But the Ministry considers me a werewolf, so I don't understand why this has to be so bloody complicated. Even if things weren't as incredibly fucked up as they are, Jude wouldn't even know what to do with me. He doesn't even _know_ me."

"Remember that," Remus said pointedly. "He doesn't know you. He's going to think that he does, I'm sure he's heard plenty of things through third parties, but he doesn't know _you_. I know that this will put an incredible amount of pressure on you but latch onto that information. I don't care what you have to say – I can guarantee Jude will use Fenrir's involvement in your life as leverage. Don't lie about things, be honest –"

"But I don't want to say something that'll hurt you –"

"It's more important that you _don't_ go anywhere with him, not alone, at least," Remus said, his gaze imploring her to listen to him. "Do you understand?"

Emma let out a quiet whine before nodding. She didn't want to do this, and she certainly didn't want to be in a situation where she could hurt Remus. The entire situation made her nervous, and when Remus pulled her into his arms, Emma held tightly to him.

"Also, please watch your language," Remus said softly, forcing Emma to snort. "You know I don't care, but I don't need them to find issue with something else."

Walking around the corner of the hallway was a terrifying moment as neither knew what would be happening. It seemed almost comical to see Jude and Ellis talking as if everything was _normal_ – just two friends catching up, but they knew the truth.

Jude outside of St. Mungo's was very much like the memories she had of him. Tailored clothing with his freshly cut, slicked-back hair. Emma didn't think anyone more punchable ever existed in her life. He turned his head to look at them only when Ellis pointed out their presence, and Emma gripped hard to Remus's hand to stop the growl she could hear forming.

"It's not worth it," Emma whispered to Remus.

"It would be if I could tear him apart," Remus said through grit teeth.

"Easy there, Moony," Emma said, biting back her grin. "Or should I start calling you Cujo?"

"I really need to start being careful with what movies I let you watch," Remus sighed, moving to the side of the hallway. "Or what books you read, for that matter."

"Remus!" called a voice from the direction in which they came. Remus turned to look and put a hand on Emma's arm and gave it a squeeze.

"Do not move from this spot," Remus said, glancing up at Jude and Ellis. "If he comes anywhere near you, come right to me. I'd rather talk to Mr. Hadley nowhere near them, but people need to see that you're here."

Emma made sure to give a grumpy huff of protest as Remus bent down to kiss the top of her head. He brushed his knuckles against her cheek, cast Jude and Ellis another look, and made his way over to his solicitor.

She felt like she was trying to watch a tennis match, her gaze bouncing between Remus and Mr. Hadley to her left and Jude and Ellis to her right. She knew that she didn't need to keep an eye on Remus, he was exactly where he was, but Jude and Ellis were getting closer. They weren't too subtle about it, either, and each time they would get stopped, Emma could see the look of frustration on Jude's face.

Others who were meant to be a part of the meeting were slowly beginning to show up. There was Tonks who stopped to talk to Remus for a moment before saying hello to her and then stopping outside a door. Another woman came by, around the same height as Tonks, who did the same with Remus, cast her a quick glance before speaking to Jude and Ellis. Another man walked completely past everyone and straight to Jude. Emma assumed that was his solicitor, which wasn't a good sign; Jude wasn't coming to play. Several other people went down the hallway, and in Emma's distraction, she realized that Jude was nearly _right_ next to her. With a squeak, she practically ran over to Remus and Mr. Hadley, tucking herself under Remus's arm.

Remus's hold on her was extraordinarily protective and was second nature to him. He barely reacted to her presence, not missing a beat in his conversation with Mr. Hadley. With only the slightest glances away from Mr. Hadley, Remus took a look at where Jude was and tightened his arm around her shoulders.

Emma's face immediately flushed when Mr. Hadley looked at her, blue eyes bright and glittering. The man almost reminded her of Mr. Weasley and seemed very kind.

"Ah, so this must be Emma," he said kindly

"'Lo," Emma said shyly, shrinking further into Remus's side.

"Oh, she's a shy little thing, isn't she," Mr. Hadley asked, looking back at Remus with a smile.

"You have no idea," Remus said gently.

"Hello…gentleman."

Emma refused to look up over at Jude, and she clutched harder to the back of Remus's jacket. _Goawaygoawaygoaway_ , she kept silently willing for Jude to recognize the fact that he wasn't wanted there. When Remus reluctantly reached over to shake Jude's hand, Emma shot him a look at his betrayal but forced herself to remember it was all a game. She stared hard at a spot on the floor, trying to ignore what was going on. She was a living nightmare all over again.

"And what about you?" Jude said pointedly to Emma.

She slowly lifted her gaze to meet Jude's, aggravated that he would _dare_ address her at all. The desire to claw at him sat at the surface, but Remus was quick to tamp that down, Moony's influence slowly seeping in. Emma hoped that she secretly had the same ability that Remus did, and Moony knew _exactly_ what Soleil was yelling at him. It wasn't very pretty.

"What _about_ me?" Emma said through gritted teeth.

"Well, er," Mr. Hadley looked between the three of them, "perhaps you should give him a hug, Emma. Better to make it seem like all parties are agreeable."

"I really don't know that's a good idea," Remus said carefully, his grip on Emma's arm tightening.

Emma thought about what to do as she turned her head to glare at Jude. "It's fine," Emma finally said. There was a long list of questionable things she would rather do than hug Jude, but she had to play the game. The moment she relaxed her hold on Remus, she regretted it.

"Oh, how sweet," said a voice that sounded far too sickly sweet for Emma's liking. She wanted to rip apart whoever the voice belonged to limb by limb and toss them into the nearby fire. They had no idea what they were talking about.

There was nothing sweet or kind about the way Jude ripped her away from Remus to pull her into his excuse of a hug. His fingers dug hard into her body as if he wanted to rip her skin away from her bones. Her knees nearly buckled as Jude's fingers dug right into the bite on her shoulder, and she was forced to grab onto him for support.

"I'm so lucky to have a wonderful little girl like you."

Emma could feel the way Remus's eyes shooting daggers just as she went completely limp. Fenrir had purposely tried to desensitize her to the phrase during their long nights, but it didn't work. If Jude didn't have such a firm hold on her, she would have flinched more, bracing for the fire-hot pain of the Cruciatus. She swore that she would be sick on the spot, angry hot tears filling her eyes. Emma didn't think anyone could possibly be worse than Fenrir, but Jude was much worse. She couldn't let him hold power over her.

With all the force she could muster, Emma shoved her hands up between herself and Jude and pushed off of him hard. When his hold on her broke, Emma wanted to run straight back into Remus's arms, but she didn't – she couldn't.

"You do _not_ have _a little girl like me_ ," Emma snarled at Jude through gritted teeth. "And you _never_ will."

Jude, every part the arrogant man Emma felt he was, bent down to be on her level, his hands on his knees. He looked as though he was trying to level with a toddler, which infuriated Emma more than anything.

"We'll just see about that, won't we?" he asked with a deceptively innocent smile.

Remus quickly pulled Emma back under his arm. "You did what you were asked to do," he said to Emma, his gaze sharp as he looked at Jude. "And don't you _dare_ talk to her like that again. She's not _your_ daughter, Jude – I suggest remembering that."

"Well, we'll find out about that soon enough," Jude said smugly.

Jude was about to say something else, but they were all called into the room. Emma lingered in the hallway with Remus, glaring at Jude's back as they left.

"I don't like him," Emma said quietly to Remus, rubbing the bite on her shoulder. "I didn't think it was going to be possible to hate someone more than Fenrir, but I think he's just done it."

"I don't like him either," Remus said. "How's your shoulder?"

"Fine," Emma muttered, still rubbing the bite. She sighed as Remus bent down to kiss the spot near her temple and then looked at her, waiting for an honest answer. "It hurts…but nowhere near as much as when I got it. I'll be fine."

"That's better," Remus said softly, kissing Emma's cheek. "What did I tell you about acting like you're fine when you're not?"

"That I'm too proud and too bloody stubborn for my own good. Repeatedly. Probably several times in the span of five minutes," Emma said with a slight smile.

"There's my girl," Remus said. He straightened up and turned to Mr. Hadley. "Suppose we should join the others."

"Now, Emma, since the nature of this meeting has clearly changed, you might not have to speak today," Mr. Hadley said as they walked. "I know that this is going to be intimidating, and there's a strong possibility certain scenarios will be brought up that will make you uncomfortable. They'll go over all of this when we all sit down, but if you need a break, just let us know. Do you understand?"

"Er, yes," Emma said. She was already ready for the meeting to be over, and it still hadn't started.

Emma didn't expect so many people to be in the room, and she tried to figure out who was sitting at the rectangular table. She knew Tonks, and she obviously knew Jude, but the others were nameless faces. That is until Emma spotted a squat woman with mousy brown hair that looked like a toad. Emma had to cover up her snort with a cough – Remus's description of Dolores Umbridge was too accurate.

She took another look at the people present and took a good look at the tall woman sitting next to Umbridge. She had short grey hair, and Emma tilted her head slightly as she studied the woman's face. The woman bore a resemblance to Susan Bones, but much more serious looking, and Emma found that curious. Was this Susan's aunt? Emma cast Remus a look, asking him silently if her suspicions were correct, and he gave a nod.

Emma wasn't too sure that she liked the seating arrangements. Amelia Bones sat at the head of the table where they were near. Mr. Hadley sat to Amelia's right, Emma sat in the middle, and Remus sat to her right. Tonks and another woman who Emma assumed was an Auror sat to Remus's right. Umbridge sat directly to Amelia's left, followed by Jude's solicitor. Jude sat directly across from Remus, and two other men sat to Jude's left. Another man sat at the other end of the table facing Amelia.

Remus, to his credit, ignored Jude's looks, but Emma didn't. She didn't miss the way people kept looking at her either, their eyes following the scars on her face before finding the mark on her shoulder. It felt like Umbridge barely bothered to hide her contempt, disgust worn on her face as she looked at Emma. Remus was quick to grab onto Emma's hand, giving it a light squeeze, and Emma frowned at him. One of his eyebrows arched slightly, and he gave Emma a small smile. She let out a quiet huff and laced her fingers with his, holding on tight; Emma had no intention of letting go.

"Well, we have some new faces here today," Amelia said once she had herself situated. She smiled at Emma, and Emma immediately felt her face heat up. "I'm Amelia Bones, Susan Bone's aunt. It's nice to finally meet you, Emma."

"Susan's told me a lot about you," Emma blurted out, sinking down slightly into her chair in embarrassment.

Luckily Amelia laughed. "Oh, you are a true Hufflepuff, aren't you? Well, that's all right," she said, looking down at the papers in front of her. "Now, Jude met with us a week ago, but this is Emma's first time here. Would everyone mind introducing themselves?"

The Auror next to Tonks was Tasha Langley and had been pulled in after Fenrir attacked her. The two men sitting to Jude's left were the two that had written to her early in the summer. The skinny red-haired man was Morey Hopkins from the department they were in. The slightly balding, severe-looking man was Hilliard Robbie from the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures department. Emma had a feeling she wouldn't like him much, but he barely looked in her direction. The man sitting at the end of the table was Graham Bradshaw from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but Emma didn't know what he did exactly. Jude's solicitor's name was Brian McIntosh, and to Emma's amusement, Mr. Hadley's first name was Leif. Umbridge barely needed to introduce herself, and Emma discovered the sickly sweet voice had come from her.

It almost seemed like Emma wasn't going to have to talk as everyone discussed what had changed. Mr. Hadley was confused about why none of them were informed of Jude's involvement and was displeased with finding out that day. McIntosh brought up the three weeks of requested silence, which brought up a conversation about how three weeks wasn't honored. The silence was meant only for Emma to recover. There was a ridiculous amount of back and forth between the solicitors, with one of the other people present interjecting into the conversation.

For a long while, Emma thought she wouldn't have to speak at all. She kept her gaze fixed to a spot on the table, listening closely to what was being said and focusing on the feeling of Remus's thumb rubbing hers. It was a soothing and rhythmic pattern that helped to soothe her nerves, and Emma idly wondered if it helped him as well.

As she was underage, most of the conversation was left to Mr. Hadley, which Emma didn't mind. Whoever suggested the man to act as Remus's solicitor was brilliant, and Emma wondered if it was Elara's recommendation. She always seemed to find people willing to work with werewolves, but Elara was charismatic in a way that left Emma envious. Emma lifted her gaze slightly when it came up that she would most likely need her own solicitor moving forward. That wasn't a good sign at all, and she avoided turning her head to look at Remus with worry over how much it would cost.

"Right, well, I think we've heard enough from Remus and Jude to start making decisions on Emma's care for now," Amelia eventually said to the table. "Which leaves Emma as the only one we haven't heard from just yet. As this is a decision that will affect her, it's only fair that we hear what she has to say." Amelia turned her attention to Emma. "Did you need a brief recess, or shall we continue?"

"I should be all right," Emma said, taking a shaky breath.

"Perfect," Amelia said. "Remember, Jude, Remus, neither of you are allowed to speak at this time. However, your solicitors are allowed to participate. Whoever has questions may ask them now."

Emma wasn't at all surprised when Umbridge was the first to speak. Other than Jude's solicitor, she was going to be the difficult one to work with.

"Well, Miss Nickels," started Umbridge

"It's Lupin," Emma said tersely, her lips pressing together as Remus squeezed her hand in warning.

"Ahem, Miss _Nickels_ – I have my concerns. Namely regarding your relationship with Mr. Greyback."

Emma had to pull her lower lip between her teeth to keep herself from laughing at Fenrir being referred to as "Mr. Greyback." Umbridge was clearly just going to jump right into the worst of things, and Emma gave a slight nod for her to continue.

"Well, nearly everyone involved in this case has been made well aware of your incidents involving Mr. Greyback. I'm sure, like myself, the others fail to understand the nature of your relationship with Mr. Greyback," Umbridge said. "The children's home was one of the safest possible places you could be. I confess that I wonder if you were perhaps _suggesting_ that you would be interested in sleeping with Mr. Greyback before your attack."

Remus's fingers tightened painfully around hers, and Emma's jaw dropped as she looked at Umbridge. Emma gave Jude a sidelong glance, her eyes narrowing as she noticed him cover his mouth to hide his amusement.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Emma finally said to Umbridge in disbelief.

"Well, it appears that you two were… _close_. I'm just wondering who is truly at fault in this situation."

"This line of questioning is highly inappropriate," Mr. Hadley said.

"Is it? The point of this meeting is to explore all possibilities. Mr. Lupin and Mr. Nickels have already undergone their questioning. The only one we have yet to hear from is Miss Nickels. I just want to make sure that we have all of the information before making a decision."

"I fail to see how that's at all relevant," Emma said sharply.

"Well, considering Mr. Lupin is a werewolf, I think it's important that we know the facts."

Emma pulled her hand from Remus's and clasped her hands in front of her on the table and leaned forward. "What exactly are you implying?"

"Well, he's a werewolf; there's nothing to imply. It's in his nature."

"Emma, you don't need to answer this question," Mr. Hadley said. "That's not the point of this meeting."

"No, I want to know what exactly she's trying to say," Emma said. "I'm very curious to know where this conversation is going."

"Well, all werewolves are depraved creatures –"

"So you're suggesting that my own father would try to _rape_ me?"

"It's not as though it's not unheard of. Werewolves are mindless beasts, after all."

Umbridge was completely unhinged; Emma was sure of it. Emma nearly burst into laughter at how absurd the entire situation was. This was _not_ what she expected to walk into, and she was disgusted. _This_ was what people thought about werewolves? Emma couldn't believe it, and she leaned back slightly her jaw dropping. It was the sort of thing that could easily be associated with Fenrir, but _her father_?

"Emma, you really don't need to answer," Mr. Hadley repeated.

"No, it's fine," Emma said, turning her attention to Mr. Hadley, who gestured for Emma to continue. "Let me make several things clear, _Miss Secretary –_ "

" _Madam Undersecretary –_ "

"Same bloody thing," Emma said with an aggravated huff. She knew it really wasn't, but she didn't care. "I do not appreciate the fact that you would dare accuse me of pursuing that sort of relationship with Greyback. I really do not appreciate the fact that you would dare lump my father into a category with Greyback who deserves a category by himself –"

"Well, it's not as though he's really your father, is he?"

"I look _exactly_ like him," Emma bit out. "I would never seek that sort of relationship with Greyback, and never have I ever willingly sought him out. I tolerate his presence at best as it's in my best interest to _not_ anger him. I highly doubt I need to remind everyone in this room of the true nature of Fenrir Greyback. His attack was a vile action on his part, and I will never be able to erase it or hide the fact of what he's done to me. I never asked for this, and I honestly thought he would kill me multiple times while I was in the children's home. Never once in my life have I worried about my safety or wellbeing with _Remus John Lupin_. I fear that I now have to be specific as it's obvious there's confusion of who my father really is."

The silence that fell was palpable, and Emma startled slightly when Remus started to rub her back. Emma took a shaky breath and leaned back in her chair, leaning closer towards Remus, just wanting to be close.

"What exactly is your relationship with Mr. Greyback?" asked Mr. McIntosh.

Emma turned her attention to the man sitting directly across from her, studying him for a moment. His dark eyes were boring into hers, and Emma quickly cast her gaze aside, worried that he could do Legilimency. That would just make things worse, and she wouldn't put it past Jude to find someone just as sneaky as he was.

"That's a very complicated question to answer," Emma said slowly.

"How so?"

"Well, it depends on the context, I suppose," Emma said with a slight shrug. "But he's not part of this discussion. The discussion is why you insist on keeping me away from my father."

"We're trying to reunite you with Mr. Nickels."

"That man is not my father."

"Per your records –"

"He is not my father."

"Again, if you would please stop interrupting –"

"I will keep interrupting until you understand that I'm sitting right next to my father."

"You are obviously very confused –"

"Nothing is confusing about it. Jude wasn't even around when I was a baby."

"And how can you say that? You were a baby?"

"Doesn't matter, does it? I know for a fact that the man sitting right next to me was around far more often than the one across the table. I think that's more than enough information for me to know."

"And what makes you think that?"

"There's photographic evidence. Who's holding me in most photos looking like an absolutely proud father? Remus Lupin. Know who's nowhere to be seen? Jude Nickels. I don't even think I've ever seen a photo of Jude and me together in my life."

"Perhaps he was the one taking the photo."

"Curious when he can be found lingering in the background, not interested in what's going on in the room. Now, unless he's waving his wand half-way across the room and has some charm that allows him to see through the viewfinder, I doubt he's taking the photo," Emma said sharply. She rubbed her forehead, trying to give herself a moment to breathe and calm her anxiety. "I look exactly like the man sitting next to me, and you're going to tell me that it doesn't matter?"

"That was all done with a potion."

"Doesn't change the fact he's my father," Emma insisted. "This man has done more for me in three years than anyone has ever done for me my entire life."

"He's still a werewolf."

" _He is not Greyback_."

"But he's still dangerous."

"By that argument, then so am I," Emma said, glancing over at Robbie. "I received a letter stating that I would be required to be on the Werewolf Registry at seventeen. I think that's point enough that I should be with _Remus_ and not Jude. Jude wouldn't even know how to take care of me. Remus is always going to know."

"That still doesn't change the fact that until you're seventeen, we would be putting a child back in the home of a werewolf," Umbridge said.

"And again, the Ministry has literally classified me as a werewolf, so I don't see what the issue is," Emma snapped. "We have documentation of the _letter_ I received from Mr. Robbies informing me of my requirement to be on the registry. Obviously, he wouldn't have had so many comments about me earlier if that weren't the case."

There were soft mutterings around the table, and Emma leaned further back into her chair. She was angry, and if it weren't for Remus rubbing her back, she probably would have lost her composure completely.

"Well, if the issue is Emma feels that she _looks_ like Remus, then we could run through the blood adoption all over again," McIntosh said.

"Actually, due to Emma's biology, you can't," said Mr. Hadley. "Emma is in a state of in-between, not quite human, not quite a half-breed. Her infection overrides her entire system, and a blood adoption wouldn't take. The only way a blood adoption could take place again is with very specific circumstances."

"And what would those circumstances be?"

"Well, there could be a cure for lycanthropy overnight," said Mr. Hadley with a laugh. "Or it would have to involve another werewolf or a canine Animagus. As there are no canines on the Animagus registry, that would leave only another werewolf."

Emma's stomach did a funny little flip, and she sat up a little straighter. Mr. Hadley just mentioned a dog Animagus as being a reason a blood adoption could take place. With Emma's infection, it would never override Remus's input into her genetics. Her thoughts immediately went into a tailspin as she tried to think of everything that had happened with Fenrir. There were so many moments that Fenrir had implied that she was a Black. Emma had started to feel like she had some of Sirius's features, as subtle as they were. There wasn't a possibility that she really _could_ be a Black, could there?

Her thoughts immediately returned to when Fenrir brought back the rest of her memories. There was the funny-looking potion that seemed familiar and foreign to her. She had never heard Sirius mention following through on the same process as Remus, only paperwork. Was there a possibility that a potion had been made and the ceremony had only been half completed?

Emma was jarred out of her thoughts when she heard more talking, and she had to pay attention. Apparently, the small bits of information she had given wasn't good enough, and there was idle chatter of giving Jude temporary custody. That wasn't good at all, and Emma had to think fast.

The last thing she wanted to do was think about Fenrir, but she thought back to the note sitting in her pocket. He said to remember what he taught her, but there was a near endless list of things he taught her growing up. What would be most beneficial in this situation? She had to try and think like Fenrir, and that was a disturbing thought.

As she looked across the table at Jude, Emma felt she had to put that aside and focus on something more important. She took in the near-smug look on Jude's face and the worried look on Remus's, and she knew exactly what she needed to do.

Fenrir had drilled it in her head at a very young age that she had to be several steps ahead. Even better, he had taught her the best way to throw people off unexpectedly with her small size – just start crying.

With only the smallest half-glance in Remus's direction to try and warn him to follow along, Emma forced herself to start crying. It didn't take much to start, already feeling incredibly emotional, but she was nowhere near the level of theatrics she had to put on. Emma kept the ruse up for as long as she could, trying to ignore the stunned silences and the sympathetic looks of everyone except for Jude and Umbridge.

"I'm sorry," Emma sniffled, shooting Remus a very quick apologetic look and desperately hoping he understood what she was doing. She looked up at Jude, working hard to suppress her smirk at the disgusted look on his face before she looked at everyone else. Emma lifted a hand to gesture vaguely in Jude's direction. "It's just…I've missed him so much, and I don't want to hurt either Jude or Remus. I love them both. How am I supposed to be apart from either?"

Jude made a choking noise, and Remus immediately covered his mouth to hide his smile. Emma had seen Remus do the action so often, quickly shifting his face into one appropriate for the occasion. It was never something she had to do with Remus, but she had heard plenty of stories of him having to hide his expressions. He never wanted to look too amused during his pranking days, and Remus was a complete natural. No one would even know the difference.

He gave himself a moment to compose himself and reached out to put a hand on Emma's arm in the perfect charade of understanding.

Emma Lupin – 1. Jude Nickels – 0.

"I understand," Remus said gently, rubbing her arm. "I know you don't want to hurt anyone, and I'm sure Jude understands as well, yes?"

A flash of rage flickered over Jude's face, his jaw clenching tightly as he looked across the table. He was a good actor as well, as he put on his best sympathetic expression. "Yes, of course," he said tightly. "But Emelyn, pet, it's time for you to come home. We have a lot to catch up on."

Someone passed Emma a handkerchief, and she took it with all the grace she could manage. It helped her to wipe at her eyes to hide the fact her eye nearly twitched at Jude calling her pet. She could excuse being called Emelyn, as she had gone by that for so long. Being called pet was more nauseating than anything Fenrir ever called her and made her feel uneasy. There was something sinister behind it, but she wasn't sure what just yet.

Emma let out a choked sob, hanging her head and peering up at everyone through her eyelashes. She was going to milk her performance for everything it was worth.

"I'm not sure that it would be wise to stick us in one home," Emma said, dabbing at her eyes. "I'm just worried after what I was told before the first time I visited St. Mungo's. I know that Jude was combative with my mother in his…incapacitated state. I fear that because we look so similar that I might bring forth the same issues." Emma took a great sniff, straightening up slightly, but holding herself close. She made sure that her eyes welled up with tears again, and she fixed Jude with a hard stare to show she wasn't backing down. "I don't want to cause Jude any undue stress."

There were murmurings as the committee flipped through the paperwork in front of them to confirm that information. The way the muscle in Jude's jaw jumped was incredibly telling. Emma silently added another tally to her score.

Emma Lupin – 2. Jude Nickels – 0.

"Well, that won't be an issue at all," Jude finally said dryly. "You look absolutely nothing like your mother with those _scars_ on your face."

 _Absolute bastard_ , Emma thought to herself as everyone suddenly looked up, and all eyes were on her. That was an incredibly sore subject, and a low blow, but Emma had to admit it was a clever move.

Emma Lupin – 2. Jude Nickels – 1.

It was the perfect opportunity to pull the tears back out, and Emma began to sob again. After this performance, she would expect an award – perhaps drop out of Hogwarts to find a magical drama school. If she had read into things correctly, one actually existed. Maybe they would be a touch kinder to a werewolf. It did its purpose, and everyone else went back to their paperwork on Jude's stay in St. Mungo's.

"Oh, sweetheart," Remus said gently, reaching over to Emma to pull her close, stroking her hair. "If you were with me, you never would have been attacked."

Emma gave a feeble nod, and there was soft, "Oh's" from at least two people at the table. She would consider that a win for Team Lupin and mentally added a third tally. All that mattered was that they stayed ahead.

"Keep doing what you're doing because you're the only one with a handle on this situation right now," Remus whispered in her ear, making sure to keep quiet enough that no one would think it was anything more than soothing words. Emma gave another small nod, burying her face in his chest.

"Well, that does change things a little bit, yes?" asked Mr. Hadley. "It wouldn't be right to pull Emma from one potentially dangerous situation – not that I believe Mr. Lupin is of any danger towards Emma – only to stick her into another one."

"I think that the ultimate goal should be reunification. However, your records from St Mungo's do suggest an issue at hand, Jude," said Amelia, her lips pursing slightly. "I think we need to take into account that Emma's situation is unique. It's very uncommon to deal with the affairs of a werewolf, or in this case, half-werewolf. We have to look at what's best for Emma's living conditions, and it appears we're now at a standstill.

"Professor Dumbledore has already sent over Emma's file from Hogwarts and has proven to be an exemplary student. As she does not transform at the full moon, there's no reason to bar her attendance. That at least solves one issue concerning Emma's care."

"But she's –" Umbridge started to say

"Not a full werewolf, and therefore not dangerous," Amelia said, cutting Umbridge off. "As she does not transform, she is not a liability. The research done in Emma's condition is only one of several isolated cases. We have talked to medical professionals in other countries that have dealt with a similar situation, and they all say the same thing. As long as Emma doesn't receive a bite from a transformed werewolf, she's human, just with an infection.

"That being said, as there are concerns about whether or not there will be an issue if Emma and Jude are placed in the same home, we need to go a different route. I propose that we go in a different direction, for the time being, and find a third party to take over her care. The next few weekends can be split to offer Emma an opportunity to get to know Jude and to spend time with Remus."

Emma Lupin – 4. Jude Nickels – 1.

"I think I have a suggestion for a third party if you don't mind," Jude offered, and Emma felt her entire body grow cold. This could potentially be a huge issue. "I know that Ellis's daughter and mine –" Emma had to suppress a gag "– are close friends. I don't see Ellis or Sage having an issue with taking Emma in for a few weeks. After all, Remus and I will get the next two weekends before the school year begins."

"Or Emma could go back to her Grandfather's to keep her with family," Remus suggested. "I don't believe that Ellis and Sage would be interested in an extra mouth to feed, even for a few weeks."

"I would pay for it, of course," Jude said with a shrug. "I'm not sure that Lyall would be the best option considering his track record."

"And unfortunately, your father is still on suspension until mid-October, Mr. Lupin," said Robbies. "Otherwise, that could possibly have been a potential move."

"I vote for talking to Ellis to see what he thinks," Mr. Hadley said, "unless Emma, you have any other suggestions."

Emma had exactly zero suggestions, but she had to try. All she could do was throw out names and hope that one of them would stick.

"Er, the Weasleys," Emma suggested.

"Too many children," said Hopkins.

"The Grangers?"

"The Grangers? Who are they? I've never heard that surname before," said Auror Langley.

"Er, they're the parents of my friend Hermione," Emma said slowly. "She's a Muggle-born, and we met before our first year when Professor McGonagall took us to Diagon Alley."

"I think with your condition, it would be better to stick with a magical family," said Mr. Hadley. "Do you have any other possibilities?"

"I think it would be fine to leave her with Muggles," Umbridge muttered.

"There's the Longbottoms," Emma said slowly. She didn't particularly like the idea of staying with Neville, but it was better than nothing.

"Augusta already has Neville to worry about," said Bradshaw.

"The Diggory's?"

"That could be a possibility considering he's in the same department as Lyall," said Robbies with a slight shrug. "We could ask."

"It would be preferable to put Emma in an actual household instead of in another children's home," Mr. Hadley pointed out.

"Perfect," Amelia said, clapping her hands, "we'll consult with Ellis and Amos and go from there. How about we take a brief recess for lunch, and we can pull Ellis and Amos in to decide what to do next?"

The moment everyone at the table started to stand up, Emma sank in her chair, completely exhausted. Things weren't going to plan, and she nearly started to cry for real. Her entire body was shaking from her nerves, and Emma felt she was running a marathon. She wanted to go home and get back into her bed and sleep. As far as she was concerned, the meeting was utterly useless, and it didn't even matter that she was there. Everyone mostly talked around her, and she started to feel as though she ruined everything. It was evident that there was very little support for her to go home, and her input wasn't even necessary. As long as Jude was there, it would be a problem; she didn't know what to do.

"Where did that come from?" Remus whispered to Emma, cupping her cheek to turn her face towards him. "That was an award-winning performance, and while I'm impressed, it makes me a little concerned."

"If you would believe it, Fenrir did something helpful for me," Emma huffed out, leaning into Remus's touch. "It's a long story, but I'm currently trying to pretend I didn't learn it from him at all. As the daughter of two of the most ingenious men in the world, I'm claiming my Marauder status for my brilliance. I like to think that you and Papa taught me everything I know. I am both of my father's daughter, in case you've forgotten."

"You're aware of how dangerous things are about to get, yes?" Remus asked, brushing his thumb over the swell of Emma's cheek. "If that's where you wind up, you're going to put right into the middle of things.

"I know," Emma said quietly. "But is it really any more dangerous than dealing with Fenrir on my own?"

"You have the potential of dealing with three grown men at one time, and Emma, _you forget_ that you're a fourteen-year-old girl."

"There's not much more that can be done to me that hasn't been done already," Emma said with a wry smile. "And you've taught me how to defend myself. I'm unstoppable with a wand."

Remus hummed softly, standing and tugging Emma up with him. He enveloped her into a tight hug, his body curling over hers, and Emma took advantage of his comfort. She closed her eyes as one of Remus's hands came up to stroke her hair, and she tried to follow his breathing pattern to calm down. It was clear the hug was for him as much as it was for her, and Emma felt safe. She didn't understand how anyone could look at them and see anything less than the love that they shared because there was so much of it. There was love, there was an incredible amount of trust, there was safety, and most importantly, there was home. And then, of course, there was Remus saying stupid things that annoyed Emma to no end.

"You know, you don't have to defend me," he whispered to her.

"I will _never_ let anyone talk bad about you just because of what _we_ are," Emma said back, squeezing Remus as tight as she could. "I will defend you, no matter what."

"I'm used to what people have to say, fy nghariad. It's fine," Remus insisted. "Even when people didn't know what I was, it's not as though I haven't heard it all."

Emma leaned back slightly to look up at Remus. "But that doesn't make it right," Emma said. "I never realized…I knew people said bad things about werewolves, but I didn't know it could be _that_ bad. Not everyone is Fenrir…"

"But that's all people see," Remus sighed, slowly pulling away. "And speaking of which, Emma, what of the full moon on Sunday? It's evident they're not going to let you come home, and he could attack you again."

"Well, good news for me is Fenrir basically laid out the exact reasons he won't bite me," Emma said, swallowing hard. "Which means I'm going to be in for a very uncomfortable week again."

"Emma –"

"I'll be fine," Emma said quickly. "I'm going to have to be. Besides, I think I've got a more dangerous monster to worry about. I'm starting to realize that not all monsters have fur, fangs, and walk on four legs one night a month –" Emma looked over at where Jude was standing, conversing with his solicitor, for a long moment "– sometimes they walk on two legs every day of the year."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never thought I would hate someone more than Fenrir, but I cannot stand Jude and I genuinely hated writing him more than Fenrir. Although, Umbridge might be high up there, but that's Umbridge and it's expected, but dear lord I hate the woman.
> 
> And now, for my obligatory reminder - if you're one of my late night readers, please go to bed.
> 
> **come find me on:**   
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> 


	25. A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

It was predictable that the final verdict was that Emma would be moved to the Moon household for the rest of the summer. With that decision made, the rest of the meeting seemed utterly useless. Emma wasn't going home, and even though she already knew she wouldn't, it still hurt. There were further discussions into general werewolf biology that Emma tuned out, knowing that it didn't really matter. The point that she was of age as a werewolf in a matter of weeks didn't matter as it was a completely different set of rules. Werewolf law wasn't seen as valid in the general wizarding population despite their magic.

At one point, a conversation over finances regarding Emma came up. She considered that outcome a victory, but at a cost.

Emma had no idea that Remus was given money from the Nickel's family vault to care for her. She thought that he was doing everything by himself because he _had_ to, and it hit Emma hard just how much Remus did for her. Every bit of money that was meant to go towards her care was deposited back into the account for when she was of age. He wanted to do everything by himself.

Remus was meticulous with his bookkeeping and had receipts for everything. It almost made Emma wonder if he somehow knew something like this would happen. Emma knew Remus was stubborn, it was one of the traits that they shared that made them butt heads, but she didn't realize just how much. He had gone without for so long when he didn't need to. He wanted to do something for her to make her life more comfortable when she graduated, just so she wouldn't have to struggle like he did.

It was a point that neither solicitor could argue, and Amelia's decision nearly made Emma laugh. To Jude's aggravation, every piece of gold meant to be used for Emma's care was being placed into a separate vault for her use. The grand total of 6024 Galleons, 1 Sickle, and 18 Knuts that would have been used over the years was hers to do whatever she pleased when she was of age. She would receive a small stipend monthly, and it was recommended that she visit Gringotts to find investments while the gold sat. Even better, Jude was still responsible for paying for her care for as long as he insisted on trying to get custody of her. His name was on the paperwork, not Remus's, and he would be required to make the payments into Emma's vault himself. It was brilliant.

She didn't need the money, not at all, but the seething look on Jude's face was absolutely brilliant. Emma had no desire to use any of it, but she had silently started forming plans in her mind of what to do. If the Black family had such favorable investments, Emma wondered if it would be worth investing in the same ventures as well. She would have to think more about it during the school year and try and do some research.

The final score was Emma with 5 points, Jude with 2. The Gringotts vault had sealed the deal on her last point, but Jude's win over where Emma would be placed had given him his. She came out ahead in the end, and that was what mattered, but she had much more to worry about. There were still two and a half weeks left before the start of them and a full moon to compete with.

Luckily, Emma didn't have to actually leave with Jude. Tonks and the other Auror would be accompanying her to the Moon's household. Ellis was cutting his day short to make the drive as no one wanted to travel with all of her things through a magical method. Emma didn't mind that part in the least; at least she wouldn't be alone in the car with Ellis this time. What Emma did mind was having to leave Remus again. It felt worse than any other time they had to be apart.

"Hey," Remus said gently, rubbing Emma's arms roughly, "it's only eleven days. Eleven days and then we'll have a weekend together. We've done worse, yeah?"

"But the full," Emma said with a slight whine. "I don't want to go through another one without you…"

"I know," Remus said, "but we wouldn't be able to be together anyway, considering…"

Emma knew that, but it didn't make her feel any less hopeful. "Maybe they should let me stay with you," she said, managing a slightly watery smile when Remus chuckled.

"I much prefer you being in a completely separate room for the transformation itself, thank you," he said in amusement. "I think you'd prefer that as well."

"Well, _obviously_ ," Emma huffed out, poking Remus's side until he pulled her back in for another hug.

"Eleven days. We can do this," he said, though Emma wasn't sure whether he was reminding her or himself. "Keep yourself safe, no matter how you have to do it."

As if Emma wasn't planning on doing exactly that.

The car ride was long, even with the extra company. Emma wasn't expecting to be escorted with multiple Aurors and found it funny that they felt one wasn't enough. As Tonks and Auror Langley were on her case, they were coming along for the ride as well. Tonks could talk about anything. Emma listened quietly, holding Figaro's carrier on her lap with the carrier's door open so she could pet the kitten. She couldn't imagine how stressed Figaro was with how many new places she had been. Half-way through the drive, Ellis tossed up a silencing charm to separate Tonks and Emma from the front of the vehicle.

"Wanker," Tonks said, throwing up two fingers in Ellis's direction when she realized.

It took a considerable amount of effort for Emma to not burst into laughter. Emma wanted to get to know Tonks more, but she had no idea how to mention they were cousins. That wasn't exactly something that you could go around saying, was it?

"Oh! I'm sorry," Tonks said suddenly, her cheeks and her hair turning a vibrant shade of pink. "I just realized I've been talking all this time and haven't let you say a word."

"It's fine," Emma said quietly. "It's a welcome distraction, in all honesty. You can keep talking if you'd like."

"Are you sure? Because I really can go on for hours."

"It's fine," Emma shrugged. "I'm tired, quite honestly. I didn't realize…well, I suppose I just learn more and more every day." Emma gave Tonks a wry smile as she leaned against the door. "Would you mind explaining how you can change your hair like that? That's impressive magic."

"I can do more than just my hair," Tonks said, quickly changing the shape of her nose and her eye color to Emma's stunned surprise. "Bet you wish you could do the same…"

"You have no idea," Emma said breathlessly. "But how?"

"I'm a Metamorphmagus, you see –"

Emma's exhaustion hit her hard, and at some point during Tonks's explanation of what she was, she fell asleep. She was embarrassed when she woke up from the slamming of the front door and then confused. The house they were in front of was not the house she was familiar with, and her heart began to race. Ellis wouldn't take her somewhere completely different with two other Aurors, would he? Emma doubted that Tonks was in on whatever scheme there was, but she was still worried. She wasn't entirely sure who to trust anymore. Merlin, Fenrir's constant reminders to think twice about who she trusted was making her paranoid.

Ellis ripped her door open, and Emma slowly stepped out of the car when she closed Figaro's carrier. She looked at Ellis questioningly, but he didn't bother giving any explanation of where they were.

"Nice house," Tonks said with a whistle. "It's huge."

Huge was an understatement. The massive brick-faced home reminded Emma of a small estate versus a family home. There was nothing but wide-open space, and it took Emma a few moments to realize there was a view of the coast. It almost reminded Emma of Wales, but she wasn't entirely sure.

There was a sudden shout of "Dad!" that very quickly died out, and Emma turned back around to spot Caspian. That was mildly reassuring, at least.

Caspian stared at Emma in pure confusion, his gaze bouncing between everyone present. Elijah, Caspian's friend, walked up beside him, looking at him with concern.

"Cas, go get your mother, please," Ellis said, sounding exhausted. "We'll meet you inside." Ellis rubbed his forehead and gestured for Emma to head to the house. She wasn't entirely sure what to do but went anyway, clutching hard to Figaro's carrier.

The house was so much more ornate than Emma expected. It looked extravagant from the outside, but it looked more so on the inside. The entryway floor was smooth marble, and there was a massive staircase just in front of her. Everything about the entryway reflected the marble flooring – walls of light grey paint, large paintings whose occupants stared at her curiously, and brilliant statues. It was much different from Persephone's old home, and Emma wondered if it was really the Moon's.

"Emma!" Sage said, following quickly behind Caspian. "What are you doing here?"

"We picked up a stray," Ellis said, dragging Emma's trunk behind him. "Sorry I didn't get a chance to tell you. It's been a _very_ long day." Ellis cast Emma a sidelong glance, and Emma curled in on herself.

Sage looked between Ellis and Emma, her face hardening. "All right," she said with a slight nod. She called for a house-elf and asked for them to take Emma's trunk and to get Persephone. When the elf disappeared with a crack, Sage gave Emma a tight smile. "Would you like anything, dear?"

Emma shook her head, pulling at her sleeve. "No, thank you," she said.

Sage gave another small nod, gave Ellis a pointed look to leave, and slowly walked up to Emma. She gently took one of Emma's hands to brush a hand through Emma's hair. "You look lovely with short hair," she said. "I remember how your hair was cut your first year at Christmas. Short hair has always suited you – especially now. You have the face for it."

"I'm fond of it," Emma said quietly. "I think it could stand to be just a touch longer, but I wanted to try it short. I just needed…I needed something different, but."

"It looks wonderful on you," Sage said. "You've never needed to hide behind your hair, and you certainly don't need to do so now."

"Mum? Mitzy said for me to come down. Why is Emma's trunk here?" Sage stepped aside as Persephone came down the stairs, and Persephone froze where she was. Persephone looked silly with one foot still on the stairs and the other ready to step down.

"Looks as though I've gotten that reaction from the entire family today," Emma said nervously. "Wasn't expecting to get a clean sweep."

"Mum, why is Emma here?" Persephone asked, her tone nervous. "She shouldn't be –"

"I know, Persephone, but I don't have answers," Sage said. "Take Emma up to her room and make sure she's comfortable." Sage gently pushed Emma towards the stairs, and Emma reluctantly followed Persephone.

Their walk was quiet, Emma trailing just behind Persephone as she tried to take in her surroundings. Everything seemed the same, almost like a generic version of what a rich person's home should be, but the magic. Of course, the paintings moved, and there was plenty to look at, but there was _so much space_. Persephone suddenly stopped in front of a half-open door and gestured for Emma to step inside. It became undeniable just how awkward the entire situation was as they stared at each other.

Emma sidestepped Persephone and walked into the room she would be staying in, taking a look around. It was just as finely furnished as the rest of the house, and Emma swore the bedroom was half the size of the cottage. There was a small sitting area with a massive bookshelf, a window seat, and a large four-post bed draped with a soft white canopy. The bed linens were pale blue, and Emma almost felt a little guilty she didn't plan to use them. It was too _rich_ and expensive looking for her tastes. There was an en-suite bathroom to Emma's relief, just like her room at Hogwarts, which meant she wouldn't even have to go out into the main house. She had no plans of leaving her room unless needed.

"Who would have guessed that absolutely tragic pinky swear we did when we were twelve would wind up coming true. Guess we're sisters temporarily, after all," Emma said bitterly as she sat down on her mattress. She opened the door to Figaro's carrier and pulled the kitten out, placing her on the bed next to her. "You didn't tell me that you moved."

"It didn't seem important," Persephone said, biting her lip. She closed the door behind her and pulled out her wand to put up a quick silencing charm. "I don't…I don't even know what to say anymore."

"What's there to say?" Emma asked, gesturing vaguely around the room. "Whatever's actually going on is one step closer to happening, clearly. At this point, I'm really only seeing two options. Either Jude finally gets his wish and kills me, or I'm stuck becoming a werewolf and being with Fenrir for forever. I suppose there's option three, but I've already tried that one twice, and offing myself isn't as easy as it seems."

"Emma…"

"What?"

"You weren't…you were supposed to go home," Persephone said, bouncing on her toes nervously. "Fenrir told me that you would figure out how to go back home. You're not supposed to be here."

"Did he now? Well, was Fenrir aware that Jude's solicitor is an absolute cunt, and I had to deal with Umbridge who signed the anti-werewolf legislation?"

"Jude has a solicitor?"

"Of course, he has a solicitor. He's obviously not an idiot, and he's planning to take things as far as he possibly can. He's determined to get me one way or another."

" _And_ Umbridge was there?"

"Yes, she was there," Emma said sharply. "Not to mention there was someone I've never heard of from the DMLE, I'm assuming the Werewolf Capture Unit and someone else from the Department of Magical Creatures. The odds were already stacked against me the moment I stepped into that room. I hope Fenrir realizes that it's _his_ fault that it was a problem, and now I'm here."

"That's not…" Persephone frowned, doing some quick thinking. "That wasn't supposed to be the case."

"Listen, Eff, you can sit and tell me that's not how things were supposed to be, but that is the current reality of what I'm dealing with," Emma bit out. "I had to listen to people who don't know my father insist that he would do unspeakable things to me _just_ because he's a werewolf. Anyone who knows Dad knows he would never do anything like that and has done what he could to keep me safe. I had to listen to every single disgusting assumption people have of werewolves because _Fenrir_ was the one who made people think those things."

"But _he said_ –"

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Fenrir had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. Now I'm here because it was the only 'safe' option. Believe me, I suggested other places I would rather be."

"W-well maybe you could just stay here at night and go home during the day," Persephone suggested.

"Can't. The DMLE insisted on adding daily checks at home to make sure I don't do exactly that. It appears they didn't really believe that I wasn't sneaking home while at good ol' Saint Nicholas's."

"And were you?"

"Yes, of course, I was bloody going home," Emma said, picking up Figaro to hold her close. "I barely ever even slept at the children's home because Fenrir kept me out all damn night. If I was home, I wound up sleeping the entire time. Sometimes I would meet Dad while he was working and stay there, sometimes I would stay with Elle. When Dad would get off work, we would go somewhere. Half the time, he just took me home because he wanted to make sure I could actually eat and function like a normal person."

"I didn't realize it was that bad…"

"It was miserable, and I'm almost positive my bloody therapist is sick of me talking about it because I don't _have_ anyone else to talk to," Emma said. "I don't know what the fuck _we_ are; I lost nearly every single one of my friends because of Snape…I'm sure I don't need to talk about how fucked things have been with Fenrir and how confusing that is…Being home was the best fucking feeling in the world, especially after having to deal with Fenrir. My favorite days were when I got to be with Boris –"

"Boris?"

"Yes, the one who decided to kiss you and probably turned you off men for forever – _that_ Boris."

"I didn't even know he was still alive…"

"He's very much alive and very much taller than when we were kids. Bit handsome, really, which I feel is disturbing to say. Forgot how much he was like a brother."

Persephone's frown deepened, and she crossed her arms. "So you know…you know everything? Fenrir actually did it?"

"Yes, everything. He actually did it," Emma said. "Got everything put right back where it belongs."

"I wasn't sure if he really would do it or not," Persephone admitted. "I mean…I knew I helped him try to find where everything was stored, which wasn't easy since we moved, but…"

Emma shrugged in response, petting Figaro and cuddling the kitten. She really had no idea what to think or say anymore and barely looked up as Persephone sat down next to her.

"You have a cat now?" Persephone asked, giving Emma a sheepish look at the very unamused look she received.

"Dad decided to get her for me that day in Diagon Alley," Emma said, handing Figaro to Persephone. "Her name's Figaro – Fig for short."

"I assume he bought her for you because she's all right with werewolves?" Persephone asked, putting Figaro down on her lap and petting the kitten's head with a finger. "She's so soft."

"She's very soft," Emma replied. "At night, she'll sleep right on my pillow next to me. I think I'm going to suffocate half the time because she'll plop herself right on my face."

Persephone snorted at that, her lips twitching into a smile. "Sounds like someone I know," she said, giving Emma a pointed look.

"Oh, bloody hell, Dad said the same thing," Emma huffed, absentmindedly rolling up her sleeves and crossing her arms. "I do _not_ lay on everyone like that."

"It was mostly your hair, really," Persephone said, her eyes moving directly to the bite mark on Emma's arm. Her forehead wrinkled as her brows knit together, and she shook her head. "I can't believe he bit you twice…"

Emma looked down at her arm and traced the scar with a finger. It had only just started to lighten up in color, and she had worried that all of her scars would look stark against her face. The balm Elara had given her to care for the scar caused by Remus helped, but the redness took time to disappear.

"I think he enjoyed it too much," Emma said, reaching up to rub the bite on her shoulder. "Although the one on my shoulder is apparently meant to make other werewolves reconsider going after me. As if it's not obvious I was already attacked by one."

"Do they hurt?"

"Well, when someone shoves their fingers into a wound…"

"Who did that?" Persephone asked, her eyes widening.

"Good ol' Jude," Emma said dryly. "Dad's solicitor insisted I try to play nice, and Jude decided to go for the low blows. He's a piece of work, did you know that?"

"He's a bit of a cunt, really," Persephone grimaced. "I like Fenrir better than Jude."

"Oh, good, that makes me feel better because it's not just me that feels that way," Emma said with a laugh. "Was starting to worry I was losing it by saying that."

"No, he's…he's miserable, really. If he's around, I try to avoid him," Persephone said. "I don't know how my dad's friends with him. He said Jude used to be different, but then I dunno."

"I came into the picture," Emma said with a shrug. "That's what made him change."

"But you're –"

"Not his? I know, that's the rub of it all," Emma sighed. She cast Persephone a look and gave her a once-over. "Should I even be telling you any of this?"

"There's not much you haven't said that I don't know already, really," Persephone admitted, setting Figaro back down on the mattress. "So…you're here for the rest of the summer?"

"So it would seem, provided I even survive it," Emma said, not bothering to hide the bitter edge to her voice. "Right now, my goal is to get to next Friday because I'm allowed to go home for the weekend. I just have to spend this weekend with Jude – can't wait."

"Did you…did you want some help putting your things away, then? I can't imagine you'll want to live out of your trunk, even for only a few weeks."

"Yeah, sure," Emma said.

It was annoyingly faster to unpack her things than it was to pack them. Her blanket clashed horribly with the pale blue duvet, but Emma didn't care. It was a little piece of home, and she refused to sleep with anything else. They found a nice spot near the window for Figaro's bed so that she could lay out in the sun, and they set out a few of her toys to play with. Emma very carefully put Patches and Bee near her pillows and tucked them under the blanket like she would at home. It seemed stupid, but any sense of normalcy she could find she took.

"Where did you get this?" Persephone asked, pulling out the blanket made by Mrs. Weasley, and Emma cringed.

"Well…I'd say my boyfriend's mother," Emma said, wrinkling her nose, "but unfortunately, Papa's family tree is a lot more messed up than I thought. Not sure I should really pursue that one." Emma continued to put her clothes away in the closet and suddenly whirled around to stare hard at Persephone. "Did you know that I'm related to the Weasleys?"

"I only found out about a month ago," Persephone said, "back when Fenrir was…putting things together. Are you telling me that you and George finally became a thing?"

"If you can believe it, he asked me out in St. Mungo's," Emma sighed. "Although I'm trying to figure things out because it's not very clear…"

"What are you trying to figure out?"

"Am I really related to the Weasleys? Are you and I sixth or seventh cousins or whatever?"

Persephone frowned slightly before giving a small nod. She glanced over at the door and set the blanket down on the bed. "Fenrir thought you would've figured that out sooner, which is why you're not supposed to be here," she said, crossing her arms. She studied Emma's face for a moment. "But then again, it's not as though it's really obvious, is it? You haven't changed."

"No, it's really not obvious," Emma huffed, rubbing her hands down her face. "I wondered about that third potion Fenrir gave me, but it didn't make sense to me. Sirius never said that he went through the whole strange blood-adoption potion-making thing, just mentioned the paperwork."

"That's because he didn't," Persephone said slowly. "Not…exactly. A lot of it is ceremonial, so provided blood was taken in good faith…"

Emma stared blankly at Persephone, not understanding in the least. "What are you bloody talking about?"

"I don't know the specifics behind it; Fenrir does. But…if a test were to be run, there would theoretically be no trace of Jude in your genetics. Fenrir was using that as a fall back because he knew it was going to be difficult for you to go home otherwise."

"So you're telling me I'm officially a Black?"

"You're Remus and Sirius's daughter no matter what anyone tries to say. Well, as of a month ago, you are at least," Persephone said with a sheepish grin. "Which means, even though Sirius is considered a convicted felon, you have an entirely human parent…which means you should be home."

Emma opened and closed her mouth several times like a fish, trying to spit out the words she wanted to say. It was such a brilliant and idiotic plan, but it only would have worked if she had known. What was she meant to do with that information _now_? Jude had a solicitor, which meant it was going to be a complicated process regardless. How was she going to be able to turn things around again? Emma nearly let out a groan – she was going to need Fenrir's help whether she wanted it or not. She had to try and think of something else.

"I don't want to think about it right now," Emma muttered, turning back to putting her clothes away. "I think I should probably just get through the next few weeks then. In the meantime, might as well tell me about how your summer's been because mine's been shit."

There was a strong sense of familiarity even with the awkwardness between Emma and Persephone. It was that particular feeling that Emma chose to latch onto because she felt that she needed it. They had been friends for nearly their entire lives, and that wasn't something that could just go away. After being around two men for almost three weeks, it was nice to have a female presence again. Elara had opted to give their tiny family some uninterrupted time together, and Emma missed having a girl to talk to. Remus and Sirius were not the same.

Emma had been correct in her assumption that they were in Wales, but they were in the northern part. Sage wanted to live somewhere near the water, and they had apparently been looking for a while. They could walk down to the beach and go swimming if they wanted. Emma wasn't sure that she wanted to go swimming, but it was nice that the option was there. It was essential to Sage to find a large plot of land so that the kids could fly whenever they felt. Persephone's summer was a lot calmer than Emma's was, even with Elijah staying with them for the summer.

"I like it out here," Persephone finally said. "I liked the old house, but there's more to do here. There's no one around, so we're really free to do anything. Since you like flying now, maybe we should all go out one night. It's fun flying out over the water."

Sage was accommodating and brought up a potion for Emma's hair. The two girls experimented with the brew with near-disastrous outcomes. They laughed as they tried to find the correct dosage as it wasn't apparent, giggling endlessly over how long they kept making Emma's hair. Persephone would grab a pair of scissors and try to cut it to Emma's specifications only to realize that they were laughing too much. They would start the process all over again and try to fix the original mistakes. It tickled terribly each time they had to grow Emma's hair back out, but it was fun, and Emma needed to laugh after her day.

"We can knit a jumper with my hair," Emma said with a groan as she picked up a pile of her hair. "This is absolutely maddening."

"Can you imagine a jumper knit from hair, though? That sounds terrifying," Persephone said as she cut Emma's hair for the fourth time. "I think that we've finally got a good length this time."

Emma grinned at herself as she looked in the mirror. It was just a little shorter than Remus's hair, the longest part of her hair hitting just below her cheekbone. Just like when Sirius had cut it, the top was left long, and the sides were cut short, and Emma felt so much better with it. Sirius had done a great job with her hair, and she loved it, but Emma realized that they went a little too short. She parted her hair to the side, ruffling it to fluff it up, and felt extremely pleased with how it looked.

"You always did give me the best haircuts," Emma said with a yawn. "Thanks, Eff."

"You should probably have a kip until dinner," Persephone said. "One of the elves will come and wake you up when it's time. Just make sure you get changed as mum's decide dinner should be semi-formal since living here – bit annoying."

"Eff, I don't own any dresses anymore," Emma said with a frown. "Don't really have anything semi-formal or formal, for that matter."

"You never got dress robes in Diagon Alley?"

"No, didn't want to even try with my bites," Emma said.

Persephone pursed her lips and thought about it for a moment. "I'll see what I can find. I'm sure I have something that you can borrow. I'll let you rest and get settled in."

Emma managed to fall asleep in the middle of writing in her notebook to Remus. The bed was soft, and she felt as though she was sleeping on a cloud. When one of the house-elves came to wake her up, she didn't want to move. If it weren't for the elf's fingers prodding her to get up, Emma would have fallen back asleep.

"Miss Persephone said she hopes the dress will be to your satisfaction," the elf said, her wide dark brown eyes turning to the dress draped over one of the chairs. The moment Emma saw there were sleeves on it, she was relieved. Even better, Persephone had thought of everything, and a pair of shoes and tights were sitting out for her.

"Yes, it's perfect," Emma said.

"Miss Persephone also said you should have a wand holster to wear underneath the dress. Would Miss Emma like assistance in putting it on?"

Emma looked at the elf curiously. She knew how to put a wand holster on, though she never used one. It was easier for her to tuck her wand in cardigans or in her pocket. "I should be all right," Emma said with a frown.

"Miss Persephone said you would also say that and told me to inform Miss Emma that the wand holster goes on your thigh."

"Oh," Emma said in realization. That was a new one for her. "I, er…I should be all right, I think. What's your name again? I'm afraid you're a new elf that I've never met."

"My name is Mitzy," said the elf, bending her head low as she dipped into a curtsy. She bent so low her nose was nearly touching the ground.

"Right, Mitzy, if I need assistance, I'll call for you. Is that all right?"

"Mitzy is at Miss Emma's service," the elf said before vanishing with a crack.

"House-elves are strange," Emma muttered to herself as she pulled her notebook over to scratch out a quick apology to Remus. She had a feeling that he was worried, and she reached for her bracelet to touch the pawprint charm to get his attention. Emma had no doubt that he was watching the notebook, but she wanted to reassure him she was okay. It felt so wrong to have to go back to their old routine, but it would be fine. They had done worse, just like he said earlier that day.

"Just gotta fake being confident," Emma muttered to herself repeatedly as she got ready. The dress Persephone had given her was very pretty, even if it wasn't entirely what Emma had hoped for. Neither bite was entirely covered like she hoped, but the lace fabric concealed most of the scarring.

Emma didn't think that she would like to be in a dress again, but it looked nice on her; Persephone always seemed to find flattering outfits. The dark sapphire fabric worked well with her pale skin, and she was sure it would be even better with makeup.

Fully dressed and with her hair and makeup done, Emma inspected herself closely in the mirror. She loved not having to do much to make her hair look nice, but she wished that she had a ribbon to tie like a hairband. When she looked past the scars, she supposed she didn't look terrible at all.

Sirius had managed to teach her how to do her eyeliner so much crisper than Persephone did, and she was impressed. Emma still couldn't get over the fact that Sirius wore any sort of makeup while in school and did it _very well_. Remus had been overjoyed that someone could finally take over painting her nails. He would always help her paint her nails, which Emma appreciated, but she knew it gave him headaches afterward. Sirius was more than happy to take on the job.

She couldn't remember the last time that she felt even remotely girly. Emma wasn't sure that it would be possible with how she looked. For a moment, Emma considered grabbing her camera to take a photo of herself just to try and remind herself that she _could_ feel pretty, but she didn't. Instead, she attempted to try and figure out how to attach the wand holster to her thigh.

When Emma was ready, she realized that she had a huge problem. She had _no_ idea where they were having dinner.

"Mitzy?" Emma called out uncertainly as she stepped into the kitten heels that had been left for her. She nearly stumbled in alarm at the crack of the elf's arrival.

"Yes, Miss Emma?" Mitzy asked, looking at Emma with her large, round eyes.

"I don't know where we'll be eating," Emma said, straightening up. "Really, I don't know where anything is. Would you mind walking me to…wherever it is we need to go?"

"Mitzy will bring Miss Emma to where everyone is dining, yes!"

Just like Tonks, Mitzy could talk a lot. Mitzy made sure to tell Emma what everything was as they passed it, and Emma made sure to commit it to memory. Persephone's room was apparently just down the hall, and Caspian's was even further. Sage and Ellis's room was in a completely different part of the house, so the kids were entirely on their own. There were several studies and a massive library Emma hoped to go into. Even better – there was a potion's lab, and that brought Emma even greater joy. Perhaps she would wander outside her room to investigate during her time at the Moon's.

Emma was too busy watching the elf to pay much attention when they finally made it to the dining room.

"If Miss Emma needs anything else, please let Mitzy know," Mitzy said with her overdramatic curtsy.

"Odd little thing," Emma muttered under her breath as the elf disappeared, and she shook her head. The hair on the back of her neck suddenly stood on end, and her eyes shot up towards the table to see who was there. Her stomach dropped as she locked eyes with Fenrir, who arched an unamused eyebrow at her in response. Emma dragged her eyes away from Fenrir, frowning as she took a look at the other occupants of the circular table. It seemed fine until she spotted Jude sitting next to Ellis. Even worse, the only seat open was conveniently between Fenrir and Jude.

"My God, I have dressed for my bloody funeral," Emma muttered, fully aware that Fenrir heard her loud and clear based off of the annoyed look he shot her. Fenrir turned his attention to Jude, but Jude refused to look in his direction and kept his attention focused on his glass of wine.

Persephone whipped around in her chair to look at Emma with wide eyes and turned back to look at Sage in alarm. Sage looked utterly mortified. Ellis didn't seem to care either way. Caspian looked nervous, and Elijah was just as lost as earlier in the day. No one was saying a word, and it was easily the most uncomfortable situation Emma had walked into. Still, Emma felt that she could handle the situation – she was a Lupin _and_ a Black.

Emma straightened up, squaring her shoulders and plastering on a tight smile. "I wasn't expecting to see you so soon, Fenrir," Emma said, making a slow walk towards the table.

"I could say the same," he growled out. Before Emma made it over to the table to take her seat, Fenrir was on his feet. He stood behind his chair and gestured for Emma to sit, and she cast him a funny look. His eyebrow quirked slightly, and Emma was less than amused to receive _that_ look from Fenrir again. They were clearly equally as unamused to see the other and for different reasons.

Rather than argue, Emma took Fenrir's chair, trying to ignore how her face heated up in embarrassment as he pushed it in for her. Emma refused to turn her head in Fenrir's direction, very aware of when he sat back down. She glanced up to her left to look at Sage to give her a small smile but didn't dare look elsewhere.

"You know, I'm disappointed in you, Jude," Fenrir said, breaking up the silence as he got himself situated. "When a woman enters the room, you should stand and assist them in sitting down. I would think with your upbringing, you should remember that it's a sign of respect."

"Oh, I thought it was your thieving pet dog," Jude said, drawing a deep, guttural growl from Fenrir.

Tears filled Emma's eyes, and she bit her lip hard to keep herself from crying. She had cried enough earlier that day, and Jude wasn't worth it.

"Jude, don't you dare do this tonight," Sage said sharply, reaching out to grab Emma's hand to give it a sympathetic squeeze. "You have done _enough_."

"I clearly haven't done enough because she's still here, isn't she?"

"You do not want to be playing this game with me here, _Judas_ ," Fenrir snarled, leaning in Jude's direction.

"Fenrir, _please,_ " Sage said, sounding exhausted. "Do what you will with Jude later, but _please_ – it's Emma's first night here. Don't do this in front of the children. Jude, you said you would come into this with an open mind, and Fenrir, you know better. _Now is not the time_." Sage cleared her throat and looked at Caspian, Elijah, and Persephone, who looked terrified. "Persephone, please switch seats with your brother so you can sit across from Emma."

Fenrir straightened up in his chair, turning himself slightly towards Sage. "My apologies," Fenrir growled, reaching into the breast pocket of his jacket to pull out a handkerchief which he held out for Emma to take. "Ellis, I think you need to teach your boyfriend some manners. He's severely lacking since his overextended holiday in Saint Mungo's."

"Fenrir!" Sage said again.

"I'll stop…for now," Fenrir said, lifting his hands in surrender. He dropped his arm around Emma's shoulders to pull her a little closer. "We're talking after dinner," he whispered to her before dropping a kiss to the top of her head. "You look very lovely tonight, by the way." He straightened up and gestured in Sage's direction to move along.

Emma looked across the table at Persephone, lifting her brows slightly. Persephone returned Emma's look with an eyebrow raise of her own. Even though they hadn't had a silent conversation with each other in months, they still knew what the other was trying to say. Emma's lips twitched slightly as Persephone poked Emma's leg with her foot from across the table as a silent apology.

If dinner wasn't awkward before, it slowly became stranger and stranger. After spending nearly two weeks with Fenrir, she wound up forgetting that he wasn't _just_ a werewolf. She felt a slight pang of guilt as the very thought crossed her mind, but Fenrir made it easy to forget. Fenrir frequently let his wolfish side sit close to the surface. Half the time, Emma could only _see_ the wolf. The fact she was sitting next to him, and he acted every part the perfect gentleman was disturbing. It felt wrong to even witness, and it made her question Fenrir's blood status more and more. Was the way he acted a correlation to his upbringing, or was he just _that_ good at pretending?

She thought that she would fall through the floor the moment food appeared on the table and it was a _steak_ dinner. Emma felt like she was in a nightmare because she didn't want to admit that she needed it like Fenrir's. She looked up at Persephone to silently ask what she was supposed to do, but Fenrir was quick. Fenrir brought it up to Sage with an incredible amount of poise, his voice practically dripping with charm. Emma was already beyond humiliated. When Fenrir said he would take Emma's plate and just to remember for next time, Emma wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. Just when Emma thought it couldn't get worse, Fenrir very carefully cut his steak into bite sizes pieces and then passed his plate to Emma.

"I bet you didn't care about that bit of knowledge, did you, Jude? That there's a specific way that a werewolf needs their food?" Fenrir asked as he put his plate down in front of a very red-faced Emma. Emma could only manage a very weak and mumbled thanks to Fenrir. "You must be the stupidest man alive to think you would even know what you're doing. Remember, what you do to her will be done to you…" It was a threat that hung heavily in the air, and luckily it shut Jude up.

When everyone could finally start eating, Emma finally started to relax. It was much easier for her to listen to everyone talking, but Emma was very focused on Fenrir's apparent manners. She kept casting curious looks over at Persephone, who seemed to respond as though Fenrir's behavior was semi-normal.

"You know, it's very rude to be having silent conversations with other guests present at the table," Fenrir said, calling Persephone and Emma out. "Emma, I would think your _father_ would teach you that."

The emphasis on father was unexpected, and it took Emma a moment to realize that he was referring to Sirius. She had been so used to Fenrir referring to Sirius as "the dog" that it often felt like Fenrir forgot who Sirius was.

"He, uhm…he did," Emma said slowly. It wasn't entirely a lie, but Sirius also didn't care too much. When they had all finally settled into their routine, and Sirius grasped the concept of utensils again, his upbringing had been very evident. It was precisely why Emma had been casting so many curious glances in Fenrir's direction.

"Do you care to share with the rest of the table?"

"Not really," Emma muttered, grateful that there was always some form of alcohol when she had dinner with the Moon's. She tried to ignore the way Fenrir's eyes followed her hand and then looked at her, with an air of annoyance that felt entirely too Remus-like. Emma decided that "the look" Remus gave her was a werewolf trait because Fenrir was definitely giving it to her. The unamused hum he gave made it worse. Emma knew that Fenrir could easily find out what she was thinking, so she didn't understand why he was so insistent. "All right, fine, I was wondering what your blood status is – happy?"

"Ah," he said, finally pulling his gaze from her. "Well, you should know that already, yes?"

"You know what I mean, Fenrir," Emma huffed out, very slowly putting her glass back down. "It didn't occur to me to ever ask."

"What do you think?"

Emma huffed again in annoyance. As she went to shoot him an aggravated look, Emma realized he was watching her from the corner of his eye. _Oh_.

"Well, you're certainly not _Muggle-born_ ," Emma finally said when she understood. She could handle playing a little game with Fenrir at Jude's expense. "I confess that I've found it fascinating as I don't recall ever having a shared meal around you before. Your manners are impeccable. Not sure I can say the same about others, though."

Jude made a choking noise from the other side of Fenrir, and Fenrir didn't bother hiding his smile of amusement. Emma looked over in their direction, plastering on a look of concern.

"Are you all right, Jude?" Emma asked, putting on the sweetest voice she could manage. "If you're choking, perhaps Fenrir could assist you with that…or not. Although I'd really prefer that he didn't."

Jude leaned forward to look past Fenrir, and Emma gave Jude an innocent smile. Fenrir seemed happier than Emma had ever seen him before in her life. Her stomach simultaneously sank and did a flip when he looked at her proudly. _That_ certainly didn't help make it easy for her to try and separate her feelings. At least she would have time to figure that out while at Hogwarts.

"No, I'm not a Muggle-born," Fenrir said when everyone finally returned to their meals. "Pure-blood. But, if memory serves me correct, you should have known that already."

Fenrir wasn't entirely wrong. He _had_ said it before in her presence, granted she was only around two years old at the time. How the memory came to be was no longer part of the equation, she knew Fenrir didn't say what he didn't mean, even if he did twist it.

"Yes, you're correct, my mistake. I apologize," Emma said, making sure to remember that piece of information.

"Apology accepted," Fenrir said. "I'm sure that you've had…a lot on your mind."

That was the biggest understatement of the year.

Emma didn't mind listening to the conversation as long as she didn't have to participate in it. She wasn't in the mood for talking, so the moment the conversation turned to Hogwarts, Emma knew she was in trouble.

"And what about you, Emma?" Sage asked politely. "Are you excited to be heading back to school?"

"Bit bittersweet, isn't it?" Emma finally managed. "I think I can safely say it's not going to be Hogwarts without Dad. I tried to convince him to let me stay home, but…"

"And how exactly did it come out that he was a werewolf?" Fenrir asked to Emma's surprise. "I think we all know he did everything he could to hide it."

Emma had absolutely no hesitation. "Severus Snape, the Potion's professor, was apparently very aggravated about Papa escaping the Dementors with some…very needed assistance. There was an incident that needed to be taken care of, and Dad thought I was in danger, so he didn't take the Wolfsbane Potion that night. I blamed myself for that for a while, but Snape made the potion and didn't bring it with him."

"And what exactly was the incident?"

Emma had to force herself to look at Fenrir to figure out where he was going with the conversation. He gave her the same look as before, which was curious until Emma remembered one crucial fact. She had forgotten that Peter was a Death Eater…did that mean he could potentially be lurking around the premises as well?

"Well, namely the actual murder of Peter Pettigrew, but that clearly wasn't successful – the rat," Emma said, drawing simultaneous reactions from Ellis and Jude. Emma felt a little guilty at the look of horror on Sage's face, but she wasn't going to stop. "Would've been fitting for Papa to finally act on the murder he was framed for, but the rat got away." There was silence, and Emma suddenly couldn't deal with it. "Either way, I'm not too happy about going back without Dad. It's not going to be the same, and after our previous professors, I'm afraid we'll have a terrible one again."

"It's not saying much if _he_ was a good professor," Jude said with a snort.

"I'm sorry, do you honestly think you could do better?" Emma snapped. "You would be the same quality as Lockhart – a complete sham."

"Is that so?"

"Oh, please. Your act at Saint Mungo's wasn't even that good with how many times you slipped up whenever I was around," Emma scoffed.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, of course, you don't," Emma drawled. "How bloody convenient."

"There was nothing convenient about it. No sane person would want to spend all of their time in the hospital."

"That's the thing, though, you're not very sane, are you?" Emma spat. "It's very suspect that you've had a complete miracle and were perfectly all right after twelve years only _when I wasn't with Dad_. Excellent timing there, don't you think?"

"It's just how it worked out," Jude shrugged.

Emma was about to say something else, but Fenrir put a hand on her shoulder, and she calmed slightly. She didn't realize that she was shaking, and when Fenrir pushed her back in her chair, she went. Jude infuriated her, and she despised the way he talked to her as if she was stupid.

"Sorry," Emma said to Sage. "I don't like when people talk badly about Dad when he doesn't deserve it, and especially when he's not around to defend himself."

"That's perfectly understandable, love," Sage said. "Well, before we got sidetracked…I admit I've forgotten what electives you're taking."

"Oh, er, Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes," Emma said.

"You're not taking Divination this year?" Persephone asked, looking crestfallen.

"Uhm, no," Emma said, reaching for her wine again. Did the glass refill itself? She certainly hoped so, but she wasn't sure if her buzz was from the alcohol or adrenaline. "Dad signed the paperwork for me so that I wouldn't have to take it this year."

"I'm surprised that you would drop a class, especially Divination," Fenrir mused.

"Oh, please, don't you start to tell me that I should have kept with it," Emma said, looking at Fenrir over her glass. "Besides, you seem like someone who would be more interested in Arithmancy."

"Divination has its purposes," Fenrir shrugged. "Both subjects are useful. For Divination, you can focus on selenomancy and lunomancy. They're both important."

"Ah," Emma said slowly. "So you're not only a zealot, but you're also superstitious."

One side of Fenrir's lips quirked into a smile. "It's not superstition when it's accurate."

"Divination is one of the most inaccurate forms of magic," Emma argued. "There is nothing logical about it, and it's open to too much interpretation. Have you considered the fact that it's only accurate because you _want_ it to be?"

"Merlin, you _are_ your father. You're aware of how much magic is ruled by the moon, yes?" Fenrir said, pulling the glass of wine out of Emma's hand and putting it where she couldn't reach it. "You've had enough to drink tonight – don't even dare think of taking mine," he added sharply when Emma eyed Fenrir's glass of wine since it was in reach. "The point is, every branch of magic has its purpose, whether or not you feel it is useful or not."

"But it's inaccurate!"

"Only if you don't know how to apply the concepts correctly," Fenrir said pointedly. "I suggest having it added back to your schedule when you return. Unless, of course, you're lazy and feel like you need to have a break."

"I'm not lazy," Emma said.

"Then prove it."

"I think Fenrir's got you there, mate," Persephone said, hiding her smirk behind her glass of wine. "Guess you're taking Divination after all."

The rest of the dinner went as peacefully as it possibly could. Jude didn't make any more comments, Emma could mostly sit back and listen, and Fenrir was still oddly polite. Emma was filled with glee when it was time for pudding, and they were presented with a dark chocolate torte. Her excitement only grew when Fenrir gave her his slice, and she didn't bother hiding her smile, though she hated his smile in return.

Emma had to resist the urge to lean on Fenrir as dinner started to come to an end. She was tired, and her energy was quickly crashing. Her nap had been helpful, but she didn't expect how tense dinner would wind up being. She nearly cheered when Caspian finally yawned, with Elijah very quickly following suit. Sage sighed and suggested a nightcap to end the night.

"Not tonight, Sage," Fenrir said. "Emma and I have to have a little talk, so if you don't mind…"

Sage looked between Emma and Fenrir, looking slightly nervous.

Emma gave a small shrug. "It's fine," she said. "Uhm, dinner was wonderful, thank you."

"Of-of course," Sage said, still looking unsure.

Fenrir stood and held his hand out for Emma to take. For a moment, she felt as though she was walking into certain doom, but as she looked up and saw Jude's sneering face, there was only one safe option. Unfortunately, that safe option was Fenrir.

Emma stared at Fenrir's hand for a moment longer before reluctantly placing her hand in his. It was possibly one of the best moves she ever could have done. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse me as I incite chaos.
> 
> Also, money converting is stupid in the wizarding world and I still can't get a good grasp on it. I use the same conversion sites, but it just seems WRONG. Excuse me as I make the money situation up as I go along, but I think for three and a half years of Emma's care that's a fair amount. I THINK.
> 
> As usual - to all of my lovely late night readers, PLEASE go to bed! I love you and goodnight!
> 
> **come find me on:**   
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> 
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> 


	26. Brewing Up a Plan

Emma didn't bother asking how Fenrir knew where her room was and just allowed him to pull her along. It was going to take her some time to memorize the house's pathways, and she would have to make sure she did that. She idly wondered if she could convince Remus to walk her through the steps of making the Marauder's Map so she could make her own. A map of the Moon household with all of its occupants could be a smart idea, but would it work? The Marauder's Map was reliant on all of the magic that existed in Hogwarts – would just her magic be enough?

Fenrir opened the door to Emma's room and motioned for her to head in first. _How chivalrous_ , Emma thought to herself, rolling her eyes. She pulled her hand out of Fenrir's and walked in. She was delighted when Figaro stopped playing and looked her way and was about to bend down to pick her up, but Figaro ran right past her. Emma watched in horror as the kitten ran straight up to Fenrir and climbed up his trousers and shirt to perch on Fenrir's shoulder.

Emma's jaw dropped as she watched as Figaro rubbed her face on the side of Fenrir's. He looked far too amused, and Emma was floored as she watched Fenrir carefully pull Figaro from his shoulder.

"Figaro, _you little traitor_ ," Emma hissed, glaring at the kitten that was sitting very happily between Fenrir's hands. "You are such a little shit!" Emma growled, not happy that the cat was enjoying Fenrir petting her. "You are _not_ supposed to be enjoying that!"

Fenrir smirked and set the kitten down gently on the bed. When he turned to Emma, his gaze was sharp. She curled in on herself slightly, bracing herself for the Fenrir she experienced at the river the one night. Emma almost felt like if the ocean was closer, he would toss her in with his aggravation.

"Why are you here?" Fenrir barked out. "You're supposed to be _at home_."

"I can ask you the same thing! You're supposed to be…" Emma frowned and gestured vaguely around the room. "Elsewhere! I don't even _know_ where you live, but you should be there. The fact that you're here at all is very suspect."

"I'm here because I was planning to remind Jude, who actually has the power in your situation," Fenrir said, punctuating his sentence with a growl. "Clearly, I was wrong."

Emma stormed up to Fenrir and glared up at him. "Clearly, if you bothered to tell me your damned plans, it would have been a different story!" Emma said sharply. "You – are – an – idiot!" Emma said, slamming her fists into Fenrir's chest between each word. " _What did you do?_ "

"I was trying to help you."

"Well, you did a real shit job at that!" Emma said, punching Fenrir as hard as she could and growling at him when he started to laugh. "Stop laughing, you arrogant prick!"

"This is adorable," Fenrir laughed, grabbing onto Emma's wrists to keep her from her feeble assault. "Are you trying to hurt me? Because I guarantee you're hurting yourself more than you're hurting me."

Emma's breath came out in aggravated little huffs as she glowered at Fenrir. "You're like a damned brick wall!" she shouted. "It's _not fair_."

Fenrir sighed, let go of Emma's wrists, and grabbed her underneath her arms, ignoring her indignant shout. He brought her over to the bed and forced her to sit down, watching in amusement as she crossed her arms.

"Are you done with your little temper tantrum?" Fenrir asked.

"I could knock your arse completely out that window right now if I wanted to," Emma growled.

"You know, if you're going to do something, it's probably best not to give away your plans."

"I said _if I wanted to_. Don't be thick," Emma said, turning her attention to watching Figaro, who had quickly grown bored and was playing with a toy mouse.

"So you're not mad at me anymore? Last I recall, you were quite angry with me."

"Careful," Emma growled. "I might stab you again."

"Oh, really? And where is your knife? Not many places for you to hide it in that outfit of yours."

"Don't test me, Fenrir."

Fenrir studied Emma for a moment before pulling off his suit jacket. Emma eyed Fenrir suspiciously as he unbuttoned his shirt sleeves and started to roll them up.

"I'm surprised that you know how to find clothes that fit," Emma muttered.

"Sage has expectations when I visit," Fenrir said simply. "And I figured I might as well get comfortable as I'm not going anywhere tonight."

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

Fenrir drew so close to Emma that she was forced to lean back. His hands were on either side of her legs, and he bent low. His nose was nearly touching hers. Emma hated when Fenrir did this exact thing, hated how he tried to intimidate her. She wasn't going to let it work, but she shivered at how close he was. Unfortunately, Emma didn't think she would ever shake the shred of fear she felt. Then again, she would probably be stupid to not have it when it came to Fenrir.

"You, fy lleuad bach, have earned yourself a week with me, at the bare minimum so I can make sure that you're safe. Congratulations."

"Oh, wonderful," Emma drawled. "How lucky for me…"

"Why do you think I call you Rabbit? You're lucky." Fenrir said, kissing the tip of Emma's nose and laughing at Emma's growl as he straightened up. "My God, when you let Soleil out, you _really_ let her out, don't you?"

"Or you piss me off enough that I don't care."

Fenrir chuckled and inclined his head. "That could also do it," he said. "Now, explain to me what exactly happened. Today should have been easy for you if you paid attention to anything I ever tried to teach you."

"Jude had a solicitor," Emma said, rubbing her nose to keep it from twitching. She knew that if it did, Fenrir would call her out on it. He enjoyed reminding her how much she reminded him of a rabbit. "And I had the unpleasant experience of dealing with Umbridge. I hardly doubt I have to explain how that went."

"Jude had a solicitor?" Fenrir questioned, an eyebrow lifting. Emma gave a nod, and Fenrir hummed thoughtfully. "The bastard. You were fucked before you even got into the room."

"Yes," Emma said. "I figured when sent your note this morning that it had something to do with Jude. I don't think even if I knew about your ridiculous plan, we would have stood a chance. Between the solicitor and Umbridge, it was brutal. Neither of the other two children's homes were willing to take me because the directors didn't want to get on your bad side. My suggestions of where to go were shot down, Jude suggested here, and well…."

Fenrir nodded in understanding and sat down heavily in one of the armchairs across the room, propping his head on his hand. He didn't often lapse into thought, and Emma watched him for a few moments. She wanted to pull her legs up, but she didn't think it would be easy to do in her dress and opted for crossing her ankles. She didn't need to give Fenrir any ideas.

"You know, you could have told me what you were doing," Emma said, giving one of Figaro's mice a light kick so the kitten would chase after it. "That would've been nice information to know."

"And risk you ruining everything before you needed to know it? Absolutely not," Fenrir said, meeting Emma's gaze. He studied Emma's face and snorted. "Then again, I also thought it would have been obvious."

"Papa was the only one who questioned it," Emma said, "but he didn't really focus on it for long. Daddy and Papa said I didn't smell any different, so that was that."

"You don't smell different," Fenrir admitted. "The changes were too subtle. Unless someone knew what they were looking for, they wouldn't know."

"So, do you think Dad doesn't even know?"

"He's too observant. He knows," Fenrir said, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt. "He wouldn't dare mention it to you unless he had concrete proof. I know him just as well as I know you, remember that."

That thought was not reassuring, and Emma didn't need the reminder. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to yell at Fenrir about, but she wasn't sure where to start. The last thing she wanted was to spend so much time with him again, but there was no point in trying to argue with him. Whatever Fenrir was going to do, he was going to do, and Emma wasn't going to let herself worry about it until it happened. She still wasn't entirely comfortable being around him, she couldn't forgive him for what he'd done, but she couldn't deny he tried to help. If she had been left alone with Jude at dinner, she had no idea what she would have done.

She wished she could understand Fenrir and wished she could get a much better read on him, but he was confusing. Even though Remus insisted that there would be a day she would be able to separate her feelings, Emma was beyond terrified she wouldn't. Fenrir would be arrogant and act like the monster people knew him as, but then he would act the exact opposite. It was almost like Fenrir worked hard to forget his humanity, while Remus clung to every bit of it that he could. If Emma was ever turned, she wanted to be like Elara and sit somewhere in the middle. She didn't want to give in entirely to Soleil, but she didn't want to fight her either.

"You really do look lovely, just so you know," Fenrir suddenly said.

Emma looked up from watching Figaro to find Fenrir staring hard at her. "Thank you," she said, hoping that she didn't blush, and she ran a hand through her hair anxiously. "That one night when you were dressed nice like tonight, was it because you were here?"

Fenrir gave a slight nod in response to Emma's question. "Shorter hair suits you. You're beautiful with long hair, but shorter hair makes you look strong. Might have taken you more seriously a few weeks ago if you looked like this, even in a dress."

"You're the one who said that a werewolf with a wand is dangerous," Emma said pointedly. "I believe that one was your fault. You should've known better."

"You know you're terrible at accepting compliments. Every single time I've tried to compliment you, you always have to turn it around somehow. You won't accept it."

"Well, considering I've never looked like the same person, it's a bit hard to," Emma said with a slight snort. "Every time I've gotten used to how I look, I've changed. You didn't exactly help with that…"

"I told you, I did it to protect you."

"So you decide to scar my face up? The bites I could have accepted, but _my face_?"

"I told you that I would," Fenrir shrugged. "I wasn't about to half-ass it. Besides, with the timing, there were no guarantees you would have been admitted."

"But I don't understand what exactly you were trying to supposedly save me from. You won't tell me."

"Tell me something, who was there the night of the full?"

Emma frowned, crossing her arms again. "Ellis."

"Right. And when did Jude leave Saint Mungo's?"

"The same night…"

"Good, you paid attention to that much," Fenrir said. "Now, did Ellis have you do anything strange? Something that made absolutely no sense?"

"Well, yes, but I would have done it anyway. I wouldn't have left all of my things had I realized that I was going to be moved into a different room."

Fenrir shook his head. "You have to think about this differently," he said. "That would have been the sensible move to pack your things. Leaving your things out would have been stupid, but have you considered how easy it would have been to kill you because you had everything with you?"

"No?"

Fenrir hummed, glancing over at the window before reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out his box of cigarettes. He plucked out a cigarette and held it between his teeth as he lit it and took a long drag.

"It would have been so easy to stage and perfect timing because you would have been far too weak to do a thing," Fenrir said, leaning forward in his chair with his elbows on his knees. "You had no wand, and you were exhausted. They could have taken you without a trace, and by having all of your things, well, –" Fenrir's let out a single bitter laugh "– they could have left a piece of clothing here, a piece of clothing there. It would just seem like the little half-werewolf girl decided to run away. If you were found dead, it would just be an unfortunate accident – or not. If you had to deal with Umbridge, then you know exactly what people say about werewolves."

"And how exactly do you know this?"

"Because it's exactly the sort of thing I would have done if I wanted you dead," Fenrir admitted. "It would have been far too easy. However, your father had the sense to mention that it would be important for you to be moved to a different location for the night. I'm sure he made the suggestion because he was worried that I would be the problem. He didn't know that he kept you from being kidnapped, but you weren't out of danger just yet. Someone apparently did some research into things and realized Ellis's relation to you through Persephone, and he was pulled from the case. That changed things because that was Jude's ticket to getting his hands on you. He decided to take things into his own hands and was conveniently all right and left the hospital."

"So then why did you still attack me? If Ellis was no longer an issue, and neither was Jude, what was the point?"

A twisted smile crossed Fenrir's face, and Emma paled. "They didn't know that Ward was no longer part of the equation," Fenrir said, sounding far too pleased with himself. "But I wasn't about to risk them finding that out too soon. If they found out right away, they would have taken advantage, and in the shape you were in, you wouldn't have had a fighting chance. If I didn't intervene, you would have either wound up killing yourself, or they would have done it for you."

The logic behind Fenrir's actions made too much sense, and Emma was lost for words, hating the idea that she could understand. She searched Fenrir's face looking for any sign that he could possibly be lying to her, but there was none. There had been multiple points where Emma had wanted Fenrir to lie to her, and she found herself feeling that way again. She didn't _want_ there to be any logic behind what he did to her. She _wanted_ it to be a completely mindless attack, to give her a reason to hate him, but she couldn't. It was a terrible plan, one that hurt her and terrified her, but it was effective. She would be scarred for life, but she was alive.

"Like I said, I was never the villain in your story," Fenrir said, leaning back in his chair and resting his ankle on his knee. "It's about time you figure that out."

"But the things you did to my father –"

"He's not part of this. This is about _you_."

"But I can't excuse the things that you did to him."

"Things that you weren't around for? Half of which happened when you weren't even born? He knew what he was getting into," Fenrir said. "Here's the thing you need to understand about your father – he detests everything about being a werewolf. Your grandfather led him to feel that way. As much as Lyall insisted he changed his tune, he never did, not entirely. If your father had been with me the entire time, like he should have, he would have been completely different. In fact, the more time he spent with the pack, the more he started to become at peace with himself. Don't let him fool you because of his feelings towards me."

"But Fenrir –"

"Don't try and use your father as an excuse to try and rationalize your feelings towards me," Fenrir said sharply. "I feel that's an inherited Lupin trait because I know you didn't learn that behavior from me, and you've acted like this your entire life. It drives me mental that you come so far, and you let your thoughts get in your way." Fenrir was back up on his feet, the last of his cigarette held between his lips. He held Emma's head between his hands and tipped her face up to look at him. "You are brilliant, and you refuse to show it. I shouldn't have to provoke you to pull that brilliance out and make you see your full potential. I'm telling you right now, things are changing, and they're changing quickly. You're not going to be on the wrong side."

"But I can't stand what you do. You take the whole dark creature thing and roll with it."

"There is no light or dark. You can't keep separating the world into two different lines of thinking; that's incredibly foolish."

"Then your logic regarding werewolves is incredibly flawed. You don't let anyone in your pack keep their wands."

"That's not true," Fenrir said, shaking his head. He let go of Emma's face for a moment to flick his cigarette butt out the window. "Trusted individuals, loyal pack members, keep their wands," he said, cupping Emma's chin to keep her looking at him. "A werewolf with a wand is dangerous, but that's what makes us superior. Everything about us is pure magic – surely you understand that. We're stronger, we're faster, we can pull magic from the earth and from the elements to do as we wish."

"Then answer this for me – why me? What makes me any better than someone else?"

"Because you – are – perfect," he said. "I had my doubts about you, believe me. You were – still are – small, but that is part of your advantage. You pay attention to what's going on around you; most times, you think before you act. I didn't even have to mold you into what I wanted because you were exactly what I've been looking for. You don't even understand how powerful you'll be the moment Soleil can come completely forward."

"I already told you, I don't want to be powerful."

"That's a lie, and you know it," Fenrir said with a smirk. "I could see it in your eyes. You had that taste of power, and you wanted to run with it until you got scared." Fenrir lifted his hand from Emma's chin to stroke her cheek. "Get yourself washed up and go to bed. You look exhausted."

Emma frowned slightly as she watched Fenrir sit back in the armchair he was occupying. Her frown deepened as Figaro climbed up the chair to crawl onto Fenrir's lap and curl up.

"You're such a bloody traitor, Fig," Emma huffed, kicking off her heels. "I'm really stuck with you all night again?" she asked Fenrir, as she grabbed her pajamas.

"If you're lucky, might be all day, too," Fenrir said, petting Figaro as if it was something he did every day. "Depends on how often Jude plans on hanging around, so we'll see."

Emma cast Fenrir a reproachful look and took a mental countdown of how long it would be until she got to go home. It was going to be the longest ten days of her life.

Her first full day in the Moon household could have gone much better. Even though it wasn't the first time Fenrir had gotten her up, the fact he was even still in the room with her was frustrating. To make things worse, he didn't even bother hiding the fact that he once again went through her things.

"Why do you always have to go through my things?" Emma huffed as she sat up, rubbing her eyes. She stared at the parchment in his hand, trying to figure out what exactly he was reading. It took her a few moments longer to realize he was in completely different clothes, and she wondered just when he had a chance to change.

"Curiosity," Fenrir shrugged.

"You're like a child - can't keep your hands where they belong, going through people's belongings as if it's yours. It's rude."

"Where's your potions essay?" Fenrir asked, setting the parchment in his hand down to pick up another. "I've read every other essay, but there's none for potions."

"Didn't do it," Emma shrugged, flopping back down in the bed. She turned her head to look at the clock and groaned. Remus had been letting her sleep in as long as she wanted, but Fenrir had gotten her up at 7. "Do you ever sleep?"

"Yes," Fenrir said simply.

"When? I have never seen you sleep."

"Probably because you're asleep when I'm sleeping," he said pointedly. "I fed your cat for you already."

"Of course, you bloody did," Emma said, pulling her blanket back up over her face, only to have it ripped away.

"Get up," Fenrir said. "Don't make me tell you twice."

"Buggering fuck, Fenrir," Emma said, covering her face in exasperation. "Is this how you are with your pack?" Emma startled as Fenrir was suddenly overtop of her, holding himself up to keep a slim distance between their bodies.

"Do you want to find out how I am with the pack? Because I don't think you want to know what I do to pups that don't get up."

Emma's shock gave way to annoyance, and she swore under her breath in Welsh. "Fine, I'll get up," she grumbled, sitting up slowly when Fenrir rolled off of her. She watched as Fenrir tossed her notebook onto the bed.

"Book's warm. Better let your father know you're all right."

Emma couldn't recall ever telling Fenrir what exactly the book was and frowned. "Did you –"

"I don't know how to get it to work. Tried for an hour before figuring it wasn't worth it. I'll let you have your secrets."

Emma wasn't at all surprised he tried to get into the book. She was so incredibly grateful that Remus had taken time to add as many enchantments as he could, including one to make it seem like a regular journal when closed.

Sage didn't seem happy to have another house guest, and Emma had no idea whether or not she was supposed to apologize or not. A part of her wanted to, but when Jude walked into the kitchen for breakfast, Emma suddenly saw the appeal of having Fenrir around. Jude took one look at them and walked the other way. Perhaps she could continue to tolerate Fenrir provided he didn't slip into the same behavior as the last full moon.

Fenrir stared at the doorway where Jude left for a moment and stood. He placed his hand on the top of Emma's head and left without a word.

"Interesting," Emma said slowly, continuing to eat her breakfast.

The moment Sage felt Fenrir was far enough, she turned to Emma with wide eyes. "Are you all right?" she asked. "Has he hurt you?"

"No, he's behaving himself," Emma said, giving Sage a small smile. "I think he's more interested in Jude right now. I much prefer it that way."

Sage nodded in agreement and reached out to take Emma's hand. "I'm really sorry," she said earnestly. "None of this is right."

"It's…" Emma wanted to say that it wasn't Sage's fault, but she couldn't. "I've just accepted that this is how my summer is," Emma said. "Just counting down until I can go home and be with Dad."

"I wish they didn't put so many rules in place," Sage said. "I would gladly have let you stay with Remus all day and come back here at night."

"We went half the summer without each other. What's another few more weeks, right?"

"If you need anything, absolutely anything, please – Mitzy has been instructed to cater to your every want and need," Sage said, squeezing Emma's hand tightly. "If _I_ can do anything for you…"

That got Emma thinking about her new-found discovery and the new reality of who her family finally was. She wondered just how far family loyalty extended, especially considering her grandmother (Merlin, that was weird to say) had disowned Sirius. Was Walburga Black the catalyst to destroying Sirius's connection to the rest of the family? That would extend to her, but practically overnight, she had become the last remaining heir of the Black family. Of course, the "last remaining" bit was only until she had children. But then she remembered Fenrir and the initial deal he made with Jude and _Merlin's saggy tits_. That was a predicament she would have to try and get answers on. The last thing she needed to ask Fenrir about was his desire for "pups," but she needed to know. If that was still a plan, she had to figure out how to get around that.

"If I think of anything, I'll let you know," Emma said, giving Sage a small smile. It was all she could offer.

Sage nodded once more and slowly stood up to putter around the kitchen. Breakfast was the only time the house-elves didn't have to work, though they tried desperately. Sage enjoyed cooking, though she did it infrequently, and breakfast was _her_ time.

"I know it doesn't seem it, but I am glad that you're here," Sage said suddenly in the middle of discussing the day's plans with one of the house-elves. Emma looked up from the book she had brought down with her, and she tilted her head slightly. Sage gave Emma a soft but sad smile in response.

"As a parent, there are certain things you wish for your children," Sage said, turning and grabbing something to clean the counters with just to distract herself. "One day you'll understand, hopefully in the way that you'd like and with no external pressures. I've completely failed as a mother – not just for my daughter, but for you. I'm fully aware that I have been complicit in your situation and the damage I've done. If I had any idea of what was truly happening, I would have done more for you. My…husband…was very careful not to reveal your identity to me. I was too busy taking care of the home, acting out my other duties, that it never occurred to me to see who he was taking Persephone to see. All I knew was that Fenrir had a child that needed to be exposed to other children, and Persephone would be kept safe. Why wouldn't I have a reason to trust my husband? I wasn't fond of the idea, but I trusted Ellis."

Sage sighed, turning back around and crossing her arms. She leaned back against the counter and met Emma's gaze; her eyes were glassy. Emma found herself hanging onto every word.

"I was beyond startled to make the connection at Christmas your first year. I was very clipped that night because I suddenly understood what was happening," Sage admitted. "I made Ellis tell me everything, and I have never been more disgusted in my husband. Between you and me, I confess that wasn't the first time I was disgusted with him. I thought we had moved past the worst of it, but clearly, I was wrong.

"As angry as I was with Ellis, I started to find hope. Persephone had always been difficult growing up, and I didn't understand why. When she finally spent time with you, she changed, and I thought maybe I could finally have my daughter back. She was happy and more open with me, and I was the happiest I had ever been. All I've ever wanted is for my children to be happy. I wanted my daughter more than anything," Sage turned around so that her back was facing Emma, and she dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. "I think Sirius did a wonderful job of naming you, you know. Emma Hope – couldn't have been a more fitting name for you," Sage glanced over her shoulder at Emma, her smile sadder than before.

"Yes, I know about that," she said when she noticed Emma's surprised look. "Jude hated it and hated it even more when he realized who named you. I thought it was a beautiful name, but it wasn't my place."

Emma had completely stopped eating and closed her book. How was she supposed to eat after all of this? She had her doubts over who she could trust, but something told her that Sage was telling the truth. Sage had been so earnest in Diagon Alley, and to hear her now, her voice breaking every few sentences struck Emma hard and left her confused.

"The point I'm trying to make is that I hope that your time here isn't completely miserable. I hope that my daughter realizes that she's been brainwashed by her father and that there is another way to live. And I hope that you can eventually find it in yourself, somewhere in the distant future, to forgive me for my ignorance," Sage said with a watery chuckle as she turned back around. "I'm well aware that Walburga burned Sirius off Black family tapestry, but we're family now, Emma. I can't control the Ministry, but I can control as much of your situation here as I can. I'm not sure how to handle Fenrir, but…"

Sage trailed off, and Emma was stunned. She swallowed hard against the lump that had formed in her throat and picked up her fork to start eating again. The only noises were of Sage quietly talking to the house-elves and Emma's utensils hitting her plate. Deciding it would be best to make it seem everything was normal, Emma opened her book again, but her eyes didn't move. She felt oddly numb.

Fenrir returned to the kitchen long after Emma had finished eating. She was nursing her cup of coffee for as long as possible, and her brow furrowed at the bottle of blue potion in his hand.

"Is that mine?" Emma asked in mild annoyance. Fenrir grunted in response and shoved the bottle at Emma. "How did you get it?"

"Well, I was in the middle of having a _little chat_ with Jude when out stepped Severus Snape himself from the Floo," Fenrir growled as he sat down next to Emma, crossing his arms. "Thought I'd have a little chat with him, too."

Emma's mouth fell open, and she stared at Fenrir. That was another unexpected aspect of her morning. She jumped when Fenrir looked at her, his eyes still darkened with his anger.

"What are you doing? Drink it," he barked out. Emma jumped again and decided it would be best to not argue if Fenrir was in a mood. She really wanted to know the details of how _that_ particular conversation went.

If Emma thought Remus could be overbearing, Fenrir was twenty times worse. He had no intention of leaving, and twenty-four hours with Fenrir was just too much. She had plans of trying to relax, but Fenrir wasn't about to let that happen. He would leave her alone to have her privacy, but Fenrir never strayed far.

Persephone thought it was the funniest thing in the world when she stopped by Emma's room only to find she was doing her potion's essay. Emma scowled at Persephone from her desk, not wanting to work on the partially written essay in front of her.

"My God, Fenrir _actually_ made you do your homework?" Persephone laughed, sitting on the edge of Emma's mattress and playing with Figaro on the bed.

"See, I used to be able to argue with him over it when I was smaller because he didn't dare do anything to hurt me," Emma grumbled. She growled as she snapped the end of her quill again in her frustration. "Believe it or not, I would yell at him over it while in primary school. I absolutely hated doing homework, so just picture this for a moment. I was barely taller than his waist, and I would give him the _dirtiest_ look I could manage with my hands on my hips while arguing my point. Needless to say, that did _not_ go over well when I tried it today."

"What did he do?" Persephone asked, her eyes wide.

"He literally picked me up and sat me down over here and grabbed my things," Emma said. She tried to get up from the chair and gave Persephone an unamused look. "He added a sticking charm for good measure, so I can't get up, and I can't wiggle out of my jeans in this position."

Persephone burst into hysterical laughter. "Why don't you cancel the charm out yourself?" she asked through her tears of laughter.

"I've _tried_ ," Emma said sharply. "He gives Dad a run for his money. Fenrir's a bloody menace and apparently a stickler for homework. 'If I let you get an education, you best take advantage of it,' he says," Emma said in her best mocking impersonation of Fenrir's voice. "'You know it's perfectly within my rights to make you do whatever I please because I'm Fenrir Greyback, and I'm the biggest and baddest werewolf of all time.'" Emma probably should have stopped her impersonation of Fenrir, but she was beyond annoyed with being literally stuck where she was.

"That's not what I sound like."

Emma shrieked; she was so startled by Fenrir's voice. She had been so focused on impersonating Fenrir while trying to work on her essay that she had missed him coming into the room. Emma whipped her head around to look at Fenrir, terrified that she had angered him, but he looked thoroughly amused. Her eyes darted over to Persephone, who had her hands clamped over her mouth, bracing herself. She shot Persephone a look; she could have said something to keep her from being caught.

Fenrir snorted and stepped up behind Emma's chair to look at what she had done so far. He hummed to himself, the sound very displeased. "You should have had more done by now," he said, taking his wand out and ending the sticking charm to Emma's relief. "Take a break. You can finish this after dinner."

Emma was frozen and looked at Persephone for help.

"D-do you want to go flying?" Persephone blurted out. Emma scrambled out of her chair as fast as she could. Flying sounded like the perfect idea.

Being on her broom made her felt free, and it seemed silly that there was a time where it petrified her. She felt safer on her broom than she did on the ground – she was untouchable, or at least she thought she was. Emma felt in control of things – her broom responded to her however she pleased. Whatever she wanted it to do, it did, and so when she dared to lie down on it as if she were sitting in a tree, she felt fine. It was the exact level of relaxation that she needed, and things didn't seem as bleak as they were before.

"I wonder if I'll make an actual spot on the Quidditch team this year," Emma said idly as Persephone tried to lie back the same way as Emma.

"I don't know that there'll be Quidditch this year, actually," she said, meeting Emma's confused expression. "Dad's been talking, and there are talks of this big event at school this year."

"A big event?"

"A dangerous one, apparently. It's been a while since they've done it – the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

"What is _that?_ " Emma asked, thoroughly intrigued.

"No idea," Persephone said, giggling as Emma let out an annoyed breath.

"Well, that's no fun. Can't tell me things and then not have information to go with it – especially when I was all excited for Quidditch this year."

"As if there won't be pick up matches even if this tournament thing is real."

Emma supposed that Persephone had a point, but she had been looking forward to actually playing on the team. She supposed there was always fifth year, but first, she had to make it through their fourth. That seemed like a much better focus of her time.

The awkwardness of dinner started well before it began when Emma returned to her room to find her closet full of dresses that weren't there before. The shoes at the bottom of the closet were all beautiful, working with multiple pieces of her new wardrobe. Emma had her suspicions of where they came from, but she needed to be sure. She ran her hands over them, marveling over the incredibly soft fabrics, amazed that they were all in styles she would wear.

"Mitzy," Emma called out, bracing herself for the pop of the elf's arrival.

"Yes, Miss Emma?" the elf asked.

"Where did these dresses come from?" Emma asked, staring hard at the elf.

"Miss Persephone mentioned to Mistress Sage that you were having nothing to wear for dinners. Mister Greyback overheard. They asked that Mitzy find appropriate dresses for Miss Emma to wear."

Emma looked at the dresses again and placed her fists on her hips with a frown. What was she going to have to owe Fenrir for this one? Emma looked down as she felt something touch her hand, and she saw the elf was holding a notecard. She reached out to take the card and gave the elf a quiet thanks.

"This is only a small portion of what I'm willing to offer you if you agree to what I ask of you," Emma read out loud. "Your loyalty for mine, and I'll make sure you never have to worry about a thing in your life. Yours, Fenrir." It didn't take long for Emma to realize he was referring to more than just money and material things. "Buggering fuck," she muttered, sucking in a deep breath. The temptation to give her loyalty was going to be hard to resist if things were more dire than she thought. She wanted to write to Remus and find out what to do, but there just wasn't enough time that night.

Dinner was a much easier affair to get through, even with Jude present. Fenrir served as the perfect buffer between her and Jude and was subtle in finding ways to keep him quiet. Emma refused to lean forward to look at Jude and kept her gaze low. Listening was a much safer option, though nothing of note was being said. She was secretly hoping for information to figure out what she needed to do, but the conversation was careful. Emma felt as long as she paid close attention, someone would slip somewhere, but she needed to wait and see.

Emma could see the appeal of Fenrir as a bodyguard of sorts and quickly understood why he was hired as such. He was intimidating and attentive, but the approaching moon made him volatile, and that scared her. She didn't care when his ire was directed elsewhere, but Emma didn't want to get back on his bad side again. When they returned to her room that night, she quickly went through her routine of getting ready for bed. Instead of climbing into bed, she felt it was much safer to finish her potions essay like Fenrir planned for her to do. She wasn't going to give him a chance to remind her to do it, and he seemed quite pleased to see her work without being prompted.

"What do you want?" Fenrir asked from the small sofa in the room. He was stretched out with Figaro curled up on his chest. Emma had given up on trying to get the kitten to stop curling up with Fenrir.

"What?" Emma asked, turning around in her chair to look at Fenrir.

"Exactly that. What do you want?"

"You'll have to be more specific than that," Emma said, pursing her lips as she turned back around to work on her essay.

"While you're _here_ , Rabbit," Fenrir said, voice dripping in amusement.

"Well, I suppose saying I want to be home is out of the question," she muttered bitterly. Fenrir's low chuckle made her want to punch him.

"Wishful thinking, fy lleuad."

"Well, for one – it would be wonderful if you stopped calling me your moon," Emma said. "Just because I'm absolute bollocks at speaking Welsh doesn't mean I don't know what you're saying."

"Ah, I was wondering about that," Fenrir said. Just to annoy Emma, he decided to speak in Welsh. "And why would you want me to stop calling you my moon? You are, after all."

"It's annoying," Emma said, grimacing at how her Welsh sounded. She didn't speak it frequently and understood it much better because Remus spoke it often when he thought aloud. "I'm not _your moon_."

"Aren't you, though?"

Emma turned back around in her chair to shoot Fenrir a look. "No."

"We'll get there someday," Fenrir said, finally switching back to speaking English. "But really, what do you want while you're here. Anything you want."

"Anything?"

"Anything. Besides me leaving, of course."

"Don't threaten me with a good time, Fenrir," Emma said sarcastically. She set her quill down and rubbed her eyes. "I want to keep taking my dance classes. I was supposed to go today."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were in a mood, and I didn't feel like pushing," Emma said with a shrug. "I learned my lesson from the last full moon with you. I don't need to be taught the same lessons twice."

"You learn quickly."

"I learned that from you." Fenrir's growl was pleased, just like Emma thought it would be.

"When are you due back for another lesson?"

"Thursday," Emma said. "Provided that I can manage to get to that point without getting too sick. I never know how my weeks will go even with the Wolfsbane."

Fenrir was quiet, which wasn't a good sign. Emma nearly turned back around to look at him, but she decided to wait. She worried that if she turned around and could see his calculating expression, she would scare herself. Emma wasn't stupid enough to believe that he wasn't planning to turn her again, but she was hopeful that he would wait. Even if she couldn't figure out a way to stop taking the Wolfsbane, she hoped that if it came down to it, she could reason with him. She would be digging into every possible resource she could to keep him from biting her while transformed, but she didn't care. If agreeing to be loyal to Fenrir was how she had to avoid being turned, she would do it. She wasn't ready.

"How is the quality of your Wolfsbane?"

That wasn't what she expected Fenrir to ask. "It's adequate, I suppose. Snape's brewing is efficient, but that's all it is – efficient. It does exactly what it's supposed to, but it's lacking. I find that I do much better when I make it myself. However, I haven't decided whether or not it's my mind playing tricks on me," Emma admitted, turning around to finally look at Fenrir. "I think all the extra time I spent brewing for the hospital wing's stores helped, but I also give a shit about the quality of the potion. Snape does not."

"Do you want to be a Healer?"

"A Healer? No," Emma said. "You know what I want to do, and it's certainly not being a Healer. Although I won't lie and tell you that my desire to learn any form of Healing didn't have a very specific motivation."

"Would you be happier if you could make the potion yourself?"

Emma searched Fenrir's eyes, not daring to be hopeful that he would make that happen for her. Still, she nodded.

"Consider it done," Fenrir said, sitting up and placing Figaro down on the ground. He reached into his pocket to pull out his cigarettes. "You should know by now that all you have to do is ask. You're a wolf, Emma, and the only ones that will ever take care of you correctly are other wolves – and the dog. You should figure that out, or else your heart's only going to get broken." He twirled his finger around in a circle, gesturing for Emma to turn back around. "Finish your essay."

There was something that sat underneath the surface of Fenrir's words that Emma wanted to think about, but she did as she was told. She would have time to figure that out later on, but it felt like a clue. If only she knew what his real name was…

It was hard for Emma to put into words just how excited she was when she woke up to find fresh ingredients to make the Wolfsbane Potion. Everything was much higher quality than she would ever get herself, and she picked each ingredient up from her table with a wide smile. It was all the quality that she hoped to purchase consistently for everything she made.

When Fenrir said it was hers provided he got to watch her make her dose for the day, she readily agreed. Her only stipulation was that Remus would get his doses from her. As long as Remus took delivery from Snape, no one had to know if he took it or not. That led to Fenrir adding the condition that he try her brew; he wasn't hiding his intentions. Emma was only slightly reluctant to shake on it and grabbed her notebook to tell Remus her plans.

She didn't mind having company while brewing, and the potions lab in the Moon household was exquisite. Everything was of high quality, and it made Emma envious. The cauldrons were large and clean, ingredients plentiful. The glassware was made of shiny crystal and sparkled in the sunlight. Emma _loved_ it.

"You know you can afford something like this, you know," Fenrir pointed out as he watched her.

"I know," Emma said, "but it's stupid if I'm not home to use it. It would be a waste and while taking advantage of Jude's money seems like a fantastic use of my time, I would like to be around to use it. I don't want to have to touch Papa's money if I don't have to. Speaking of which, you've yet to explain _how_ you managed to pull off your wonderful little trick."

"Never thought I'd hear something like that come from you," Fenrir laughed. "You're too innocent. It's almost wrong coming from you."

"Yes, well, I don't particularly give a shit about Jude," Emma shrugged. "And perhaps you don't know me as well as you think you do. Now – how am I somehow part of the 'Noble and Most Ancient House of Black?'"

Fenrir's intelligence knew no limits, and Emma was beginning to see how he had survived for so long. He always thought ahead, and while he wasn't entirely expecting to attack Sirius, it worked in his favor. Several very well placed scratches ensured that Fenrir had the blood he needed. Emma stared at Fenrir curiously over the cauldron she was working at.

"So you were planning on setting things up to make me Papa's the entire time?"

"Only when they kept you away from your father," Fenrir said. "It was convenient that it worked out the way that it did. It was one of the things I planned to talk to you about, but it didn't matter anymore."

"Do you have a single potions supplier, or do you have multiple? I'm assuming that you have one in particular that you go to because I doubt you would trust just anyone with delicate potions."

"You always were smart."

Emma snorted and shook her head. "If I was smarter, I would have realized why you wanted to watch me work sooner," she said with a sigh. "What do you think? Am I meeting your expectations?"

"We'll see."

It was as much of an answer as Emma would get, and she was silently grateful when Persephone very slowly walked into the room. She sat in the furthest possible seat she could from Fenrir, watching just as curiously.

"Making the Wolfsbane Potion?" Persephone asked, humming quietly to herself when Emma only nodded in response. "So, the Quidditch World Cup is on Monday," she said. "I can't wait. Cas and Elijah won't shut up about it."

"Oh," Emma said, trying to sound as if she had no idea. She tried to mask her disappointment in the topic of conversation. "Who's going to be here with me since I'm obviously not going? I imagine Jude's not going to pass up that opportunity just to show off. Guess that's to my benefit, really."

"What do you mean you're not going?" Fenrir asked, eyes narrowed.

"Don't have a ticket, and clearly, I wasn't invited," Emma said.

"Do you want to go?"

Emma shrugged as she worked. "It's after the full, so it's not like it matters too much."

"That's not what I asked you."

"I…I suppose I want to go," Emma said. She sighed as she cut the heat to the cauldron and went to find a bottle to pour Remus's dose into. With all the care that she could manage, she ladled the potion into the bottle and called for Mitzy. "Take this to Lupin cottage and do not leave until my father drinks it. He'll protest taking it but tell him I said to not be stupid." The elf curtsied and went on her way with a crack.

Emma tried to ignore that she was essentially setting herself up to become a werewolf as she poured out two glasses of the potion. Wolfsbane always looked ridiculous in an ordinary drinking glass, but she wasn't about to try and procure a goblet for it. "Am I serving you, or are you perfectly capable of coming here and taking your glass yourself?" Emma challenged, much to Persephone's surprise.

Fenrir looked less than amused, but he stood up to cross to where she was. He picked up the glass and waited for Emma to drink it first.

"My God, Fenrir," Emma huffed as she grabbed her glass. "You just watched me make it the entire time. If I was going to try and poison you, I wouldn't have given my father a brew from the same batch." She stared back at Fenrir, her eyebrows raising, but he wasn't relenting. It wasn't worth the fight, so she downed the potion and immediately pulled a face. "Much better than Snape's, but still dreadful."

"And just think – your senses aren't even enhanced," Fenrir said, waiting a few moments to make sure Emma had no adverse effects.

Emma watched Fenrir with crossed arms, waiting for him to finally drink it. He gave the glass a small sniff making Emma roll her eyes, and then he finally drank it. Emma half expected him to be overdramatic about taking the potion, but he gave a slight shiver, and that was it. There was silence as she waited for a reaction.

Fenrir gave Persephone a once over as he placed the glass down. "You want to go to the World Cup?" he asked again.

"Yes," Emma said quietly.

"Consider it done," Fenrir said. He looked at the cauldron for a moment and jerked his head towards the bottles lining the wall. "Bottle the rest of that up. I have some sales to make." He left without another word, and Emma let out the breath she was holding.

Persephone rushed over to the door and closed it, casting a muffling charm. "Emma, what did you just do? You gave him the potion?"

"It means that Dad gets a higher quality potion, and I could have one that I felt confident in," Emma said. She made her way to the wall to grab as many bottles as she could carry.

"But he could –"

"I know very damn well what he could do," Emma said. "I have a plan, but it's going to take a bloody miracle to pull off. I'll figure it out one way or another. In the meantime, I suppose I should enjoy my last few days of being human if I fail…Who knows what'll happen come Sunday night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Help. I like writing Fenrir now. How did this happen?! 
> 
> **To my lovely readers - go to bed if it's late. I love you all, good night!**
> 
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> 


	27. A Monster of a Different Sort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **tw:** Mild? Fenrir is a warning of himself (but also not really), Jude is 100% a warning of himself

It had been nearly a month since Emma's last nightmare, and it made her embarrassed to sit up quickly in bed with a sharp, gasping breath. Whatever her nightmare was had scared her in a way that she immediately forgot what it was in her frantic search of the room. Her eyes flicked over to the door, half expecting Jude to be there, but finding it closed, she found herself looking for Fenrir. That was something she never thought she would ever do, but he was familiar.

He was watching her from the window seat where he was smoking again. His forehead was wrinkled as he studied her in the moonlight. It was the first time Emma had ever seen him look at all exhausted, and she wondered if he had just gotten up. Emma felt her face heat up when she realized he wasn't wearing a shirt and was only in a pair of shorts, and she quickly looked away.

Taking a deep breath, Emma made sure Figaro wasn't next to her and flopped back on her mattress. What was her dream even about, and why did it make her heart race so quickly? Her heart was beating hard in her chest and was making her sick from her nerves.

"You all right over there?" Fenrir asked.

"Yes," Emma choked out, wiping at her surprisingly wet eyes. "No. I don't know." She felt stupid as a sob threatened to take hold, and she turned on her side, so her back was facing Fenrir. "I want Dad…"

Fenrir had taken to making more noise than he usually would to keep Emma more aware of where he was. It was appreciative but always made her nervous, especially when she wasn't facing him. She frowned when she heard him cross the room to the bed and sit down at the edge of her mattress. Emma startled slightly when she felt the warmth of his hand on her back, and she stiffened automatically.

"Relax," he murmured. "You're anxious for no reason right now. Let me help. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Your track record with that has been abysmal," Emma muttered.

"And have I hurt you since you've been here?"

"No." It had been quite the opposite.

"Then let me help."

Emma took a deep breath and nodded. She instinctively flinched as Fenrir's hand slipped under the back of her shirt, but he was patient and waited. When she forced herself to relax, Fenrir started to rub soothing circles on her back. His hand felt massive on her small frame, but the warmth that radiated from him was calming. It wasn't Remus, but it would do for now.

"Are you _always_ this tense?" Fenrir asked as he rubbed the spot between her shoulder blades. "There is no reason for your muscles to be this tight."

"It's pretty normal, I think."

"Does your father not take care of this for you?"

"He does if I ask," Emma said quietly, "but I don't ask him often. I don't want to bother him. I usually just cuddle with him…" She grimaced as Fenrir paused what he was doing.

"He should know better," Fenrir said with a slight growl. "Roll onto your stomach. No bloody wonder you always look stiff – it's because you are. A _cuddle_ isn't going to help with your muscles."

"Are you taking the mickey?" Emma asked, looking at Fenrir over her shoulder. "You can't be serious right now."

"You are terrible at taking care of yourself and even worse at asking for the things you want or need," Fenrir said firmly. "Roll. Over."

Emma felt positive that she had cleared several bingo boards in one fell swoop, but she obeyed. She rolled onto her stomach with a thinly veiled pout and rest her head on her arms. A sharp hiss escaped her lips as Fenrir managed to find a particularly sensitive spot on her back with his hands. He uttered a soft shush as he massaged her back, and Emma was trying to figure out how wrong the entire thing felt. She frowned as she remembered that it wasn't the first time Fenrir had given her a massage, and like a petulant child, she made a noise of displeasure. If she was having a particularly rough week and he was around after her dance class, he always made sure to work out her sore muscles. What a strange life she had lived.

"When was the last time your father did this for you?" he asked, ignoring Emma's whine as he worked out another knot.

"Dunno," she said. "Easter hols, maybe. Ow!"

"Merlin, if you stopped tensing up, this wouldn't hurt," he said, giving her a slight shake to remind her to relax.

"You…you went near my shoulder, and it made me nervous."

Fenrir sighed, pausing again. "Do you trust me?"

"Questionable."

"Bloody hell," he growled. "Just relax. It won't hurt."

Emma doubted that Fenrir going anywhere near the bite on her shoulder wouldn't hurt and braced herself for shooting pain. His hand slid over the bite, and when no pain came with it, she finally relaxed. She was sure that she would spend the rest of her life refusing to admit that what Fenrir was doing for her actually felt nice.

"Told you," he said as he dug his fingers into the muscles of her shoulder. It hurt, not with shooting pain, but with the slow burn of her muscles returning to where they should.

"How, though?" Emma asked.

"Our magic," Fenrir said simply as he slowly made his way to the back of her neck. "It's similar to when we're our true selves under the full moon. The initial transformation is painful, but our magic flows out to each other to ease the pain of the shift. Wolves aren't meant to be solitary creatures, even if they can survive alone. Our magic feeds off others of our kind; it's a give and take. This is where we're all equals."

"If we're all equals in our magic, how do werewolves like you become leaders?"

Fenrir's chuckle was low. "Finally admitting that you want to feel what it's like to be truly powerful?"

"It's curiosity," Emma corrected.

"You keep telling yourself that. I'll keep your secret safe," Fenrir chuckled. "It depends, but you can't be afraid to take what you want. It's not something I can easily explain – not for my case, at least. There's a reason why I have my reputation, after all. The less you care about what others think, the better."

"I don't imagine you make a lot of friends that way."

"Friends are useless. Your pack is your family, and that's what matters at the end of the day. You're there for your pack, and your pack is there for you."

"But that also sounds lonely – not having friends."

"Family is better, no? I would think you, of all people, would feel that way."

Emma wondered if she could argue that point, but she wasn't sure if she could. Family was everything to her, and at the end of the day, if she had to pick, she would choose her family over friends. She hated when Fenrir made valid points, but she also saw the appeal of having friends. Who was to say that friends couldn't be considered a form of chosen family in the way that werewolves could find an innate bond in a pack? She had a lot to research.

"Why are you telling me all of this now when you wouldn't tell me a month ago?"

Fenrir paused what he was doing and bent low, waiting for Emma to turn her head to look at him. Emma had grown used to his dark gaze, angry and dangerous, that it nearly startled her to see the rare glimpse of warmth his eyes held.

"Because you made your decision already, even if you don't want to admit it just yet," he said, his eyes boring into hers. "But I told you I would give you until your birthday, and I keep my word. If I'm wrong, then that's on me, and I'll cut my losses, but I have a feeling I'm going to be very pleased with you."

He let his words hang out in the open for a long moment before he straightened up. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better," Emma muttered, stretching her arms out as far as she could in front of her. "Thank you."

Fenrir grunted in response as he lowered Emma's shirt. He started to stand as Emma rolled back on her side, and she felt an overwhelming sense of panic.

"Fenrir, wait," she said quickly, looking over her shoulder at Fenrir. She opened her mouth, a part of her wanting to ask him to stay. The wolfish side of her craved having another werewolf close, but the very human and very rational side of her said she was mental. She shouldn't _want_ Fenrir close by, but there was safety in having him near. Emma couldn't convince herself to ask for what she wanted – it felt like such an ultimate betrayal.

Fenrir searched her face and then sighed. "Move over," he said, giving Emma a gentle shove. She moved over, making sure that she wasn't facing him, and he slipped into the space next to her. "You're learning," he added as he figured out how to get himself comfortable.

"What do you mean?" Emma asked, flipping over to face Fenrir. He turned his head to look at her.

"All you have to do is ask."

"I didn't ask, though."

"You did," he said. "Turn back around. I have a feeling you could talk all night if I let you. If you're not facing me, you'll actually sleep."

Emma let out a long, dramatic sigh and turned back over. He wasn't wrong. She reached out for Patches and Bee and curled herself around both stuffed animals, pulling her blanket up high. She almost asked if Fenrir needed a blanket, but Remus rarely ever used one in the summer, and it suddenly felt stupid to ask. She felt herself rapidly getting lost in thought. When Fenrir started to rub her back again, Emma didn't automatically flinch and just let it happen.

"Sleep fy lleuad bach," Fenrir said with a yawn. "Rest. I'm not leaving you."

Oh, that made her heart _ache_ painfully, wanting to have her father close. It took Emma a little longer to settle, but if she finally relaxed around Fenrir long enough to close her eyes and sleep, no one was there to witness it. She could pretend that she wasn't half-werewolf and that her life wasn't a complete jumbled mess. She could pretend that she wouldn't feel guilty in the morning and that the entire night didn't happen. Even better, she could pretend that she wasn't at all like her father, victim to her bitter thoughts and slow descent into self-loathing. If nobody was there to see it, it never happened. Nobody needed to know.

Emma should have known that her time before the full was going _too_ easy. She had never gone so long without having to struggle through it before. It was the first time she had been able to partially forget about her condition and live almost normally. With Fenrir around, she didn't worry about Jude, and she was more than willing to accept how overbearing he could be. All she had to do was make it to next Friday when she could go home. Certain battles weren't worth fighting, and her safety was more important – she would do whatever it took to survive.

The dawning realization of how different she felt made her more conflicted than usual, especially when she woke up with an explosive headache.

It was the type of headache that made her sick, waves of nausea rippling over her in a monsoon of blinding pain. She felt that she would be in for a rough day until Fenrir pulled her to sit sideways across his lap and held her close. The immediate relief made her lean against Fenrir, already feeling exhausted just from the sheer effort of waking up.

As she let her brain recalibrate itself, Emma slowly became aware of how awkward the entire situation was. This was something that Fenrir never did for her growing up, even when she had begged him when she was sick. It had stung when she was a child, craving the comfort of someone holding her close when she felt ill, and he refused. What made now so different that he was willing to do the things he previously wouldn't do for her?

Light shone from behind her eyelids, meaning it was daylight. However, Fenrir was still very much in a state of half-dress, and her cheek was resting against his very naked and hairy chest. It nearly made her laugh, but she was afraid laughing would bring back the pain. Not wanting to ruin things, she stayed quiet and graciously allowed Fenrir to massage her aching head. The moment the nausea went away, she would be fine, but she would take all the help she could get until then. Having to rely on Fenrir sat firmly on her long list of "I've Done Worse," and she had the excuse of not being of age just yet. To Fenrir, she was still just a pup, and she wasn't stupid enough to pretend that wasn't her bargaining chip.

"This is going to be a problem," Fenrir suddenly said.

Emma forced herself to try and open her eyes and winced at how bright out it really was. She looked at Fenrir through half-closed and pained eyes, silently asking for him to explain.

"I have to leave for a few days," he said gravely.

If it weren't for Fenrir's hold on her, Emma was sure her fear-filled anger would have been explosive. "Fenrir, I swear if this is one of your stupid bloody tests for me –"

"It's not," he said, running a hand through Emma's hair. "There was an incident in my pack that I need to take care of. I received an owl just before you got up if you don't believe me. It appears that some of my wolves find issue in where I've been spending my time."

"But _days?_ "

"If all goes well, I can be back tonight, but realistically I can't say for certain. I can give you my word that I'll be back before the full moon on Sunday, but I can't guarantee if I'll be back sooner." Fenrir sighed, finding the wavy strands of her hair and running them between his fingers. "I felt much more confident in the idea of leaving you alone until you woke up. I don't have enough time to come up with a different plan to keep you safe."

That seemed so unlike Fenrir – he had plans for his plans, always several steps ahead. For him to have no idea what to do wasn't reassuring, and Emma wasn't entirely sure he was telling her the truth. He never let his guard down, but she didn't think he would put her in harm's way if it came to Jude. Fenrir was quick to let her get into trouble growing up, but something about Jude put him on edge. Anyone who could scare Fenrir was dangerous.

Fenrir pressed a tender kiss to Emma's forehead, and her stomach did a funny little flip. She didn't want to enjoy the gesture – if she was honest, she _loved_ it. It soothed the part of her childhood where she wanted Fenrir's attention when he refused to give it to her.

Emma didn't want to think about it, and she rested her head on Fenrir's shoulder, trying to keep herself calm. She would have to go into things with a calm mind – any moment of distraction would be a problem. But her mind was suddenly focused elsewhere.

She had never really looked at Fenrir's body before, certainly not in the daylight. It was never something she was interested in, but the long scar that cut across his chest fascinated her. She had seen his muscles before, his shirts were often worn half-open in casual settings, but she had never really _looked_. Being up close to him like this gave her the rare opportunity to not feel strange about looking.

He seemed to have infinitely more scars over his torso than Remus did, all of varying sizes. There was a mixture of bite marks and thick scratches. Emma wondered just how many were inflicted by himself and how many were from fighting other werewolves. There were tattoos that she had never noticed before, and she wanted to ask questions, but it wasn't the right time. Her eyes finally settled on an ugly set of bites on his ribs.

"Are you only just now noticing?" Fenrir asked a touch of amusement in his voice. "It's not the first time I've been around you without a shirt."

"I've never bothered looking," Emma admitted. "That and it's mostly been at night. I'm not a wolf, Fenrir. I don't have your vision at night. On your ribs – is that from when you were turned?"

"It is."

"It looks like there was more than wolf."

"There was."

"And you survived?" Emma asked. "How?"

"That's a story for a different day," Fenrir said. He lifted Emma off his lap and deposited her back on the mattress. He crossed over to the sofa he usually slept on and pulled something off the side table. "Give me your left hand," he said, sitting back down on the mattress.

Emma eyed Fenrir suspiciously but did as he asked. "This feels an awful lot like you're about to _propose_ to me," she said. "Not like I know what that would even be like, but I imagine it's this awkward."

Fenrir snorted, his lips twisting up into a smile. "Well, depending on how you want to look at this…" he muttered as he slipped a ring onto her finger. "This will keep my magic tied to yours for the time being, so you won't be completely miserable while I'm away," Fenrir explained, giving Emma a lopsided grin. He grabbed his wand and tapped it to the band so that it shrunk to fit. "Consider it the werewolf equivalent of marriage."

"Oh, excellent," Emma said dryly. "Because being an underage bride is exactly what I planned for my summer."

"Not a child for very long," Fenrir said pointedly as he stood up once more. "Are you still feeling all right?"

Emma shifted her blanket up over her shoulders, pulling Figaro close as the kitten jumped onto the bed next to her. "Yes," she said quietly. "Still a bit nauseous, though."

"That will pass," Fenrir said, tugging on his shirt and collecting his things. "Stay in here for the day and relax – have a bath all day for all I care. Take advantage of the house-elf. I'll make sure that everything else is taken care of for you – don't take Snape's Wolfsbane. Don't you dare consider getting up to make it, either. I'll make sure you and your father get a quality potion. Do not leave this room – you're not going to dance class today."

Watching Fenrir prepare Figaro's breakfast made Emma start to grin, but she pulled her lower lip between her teeth. She didn't mind Fenrir like this when he wasn't letting the wolf take over. This was how she grew up knowing Fenrir – as normal as he could be. He was always scary to her, but in a stern but loving parent way, like McGonagall. She hated it.

Emma hated it even more when Fenrir walked back over to her to press another tender kiss to her forehead. Figaro abandoned her lap to go eat, and Emma felt oddly exposed without holding the kitten. Fenrir reached over to the nightstand to place Emma's wand next to her.

"It goes without saying, but keep your wand on you at all times and don't take off my ring," Fenrir said, lifting Emma's face to look at him. "If Jude comes anywhere near you, give him hell. I expect you in one piece when I return."

It was the closest Emma would ever get to hearing Fenrir admit that he loved her.

Staying in her room all day was a dull prospect, and Emma had no idea how empty it would feel without someone else's presence. Other than the first few weeks at her grandfather's, she hadn't been left alone for long the entire summer. If she didn't have Figaro, Emma swore she would have gone spare.

Mitzy brought Emma a very filling breakfast, clearly made to Fenrir's standards if the amount of meat was of any indication. It was the sort of meal that Emma would have laughed over with Remus like they had done before each full moon. Emma usually shared a lighter breakfast with her father until the full moon came around, and they both gave in to a more carnivorous diet. However, there was an addition to her breakfast that gave her pause – cinnamon sugar toast. That created a deep ache in her chest, and she immediately pulled out her notebook to write to Remus. There was a lot she needed to tell him now that Fenrir wasn't there to interrupt her.

When Emma finished eating, she wasn't entirely surprised to find Mitzy bringing her a dose of Wolfsbane. The brew came in a rippled, light blue bottle, giving the potion an almost purple hue. It was an extravagant bottle for a potion, and Emma wondered just who Fenrir used for a potioneer. There was no reason for the potion to be held in something so flashy, even if it made it look pretty.

Emma's idea of not taking the potion was quickly thwarted when Mitzy wasn't leaving the room.

"Mister Greyback said I am not to be leaving until Miss Emma drinks the potion," Mitzy said in her high-pitched squeak.

 _Bastard_ , Emma thought to herself as she downed the potion, her face twisting at the taste. It was fascinating that Fenrir would plan for that but not consider the possibility of having to leave her alone. At least it told her that she was correct in the thought he was interested in turning her that moon like she thought. Fenrir Greyback was just as stubborn as her and her father – that was a dangerous prospect.

With nothing important to do, Emma decided to take Fenrir's advice and take a bath. If she had only a few days of being human, she might as well take advantage of her relative peace and the massive bathtub.

The bath Mitzy drew for her was possibly the most luxurious Emma had ever had. The wide claw-foot tub was filled with oils and fragrant bubbles that nearly overflowed over the edge. The bath's water was the perfect temperature, and Emma thought she would fall asleep. The baths she had at home were wonderful, but _nothing_ compared to this one.

There was a lot that Emma had to think about, and she mulled over everything in turn. Her current situation was dangerous, no matter what way she looked at it. Jude was a threat, but Fenrir seemed to think there was more at play. He was hyper-vigilant in reminding her to be careful of who she trusted. The only other possible source of his worry was Persephone. Whenever she was around, Fenrir was careful with his words, keeping conversations to mundane things. He never said anything of note around Persephone, instead leaving that for when they would retreat to Emma's room for the night.

Emma had tried to pry several times, but Fenrir was adamant in not explaining.

"I would rather be wrong than be right," he said to her gruffly. "If you knew even half of the truth before you came here, you would be heartbroken."

She had tried to get Fenrir to expand on that thought, but he refused. "I would rather you be angry with me for not telling you than having you dwell on things you can never change," he said, his eyes pinning her with a piercing stare. "It's not something you had control over, and I know you'll blame yourself – I'm tired of watching you take the blame for others. Some things are best not knowing."

They had surprisingly talked about Remus a fair amount. She knew that Fenrir's views on Remus's time with the pack were how he perceived them, but it was fascinating to hear all the same. Fenrir was careful to keep the grittier details out, but out of everyone she had talked to, he was the most willing to be open with her.

"You know, if he just learned to accept what he was, he could run a pack of his own. I wouldn't have minded having him as an ally," Fenrir had said in between cigarettes. "That's where you two differ. I see a lot of him in you, but I've always said that you'll accept things easier. You grew up differently, and you're more accepting. You're afraid now, but I know that you won't be."

That had somehow led to their conversation shifting back to her, and the conversation was stuck in her head.

"Fenrir, I have a stupid question," she had said. She was curled up on her side in bed, petting Figaro, and she felt Fenrir's gaze fall on her.

"You haven't had a stupid question so far," he replied to her, his tone serious. "You're trying to learn and understand – that's not stupid."

"It feels stupid sometimes," Emma said with a sigh. "It's about Soleil. Sort of."

"And what is your sort of question about Soleil?"

"I know about the whole being able to talk to Soleil, or is it through Soleil? I still don't understand that part, not exactly," Emma admitted, scrunching up her nose as she tried to work through what she knew. "No, _I'm_ the one who can talk through Soleil, but I have no idea how to do that. Anyway – if Soleil exists as…not quite a concept of my mind because I'm her, and she's me, does that mean she already has a physical form? To me, she just appears as a blur, but I don't know if that's me just imagining her. Like, do you _know_ what she looks like even though she can't present herself in her physical form yet?"

Fenrir was quiet until Emma finally looked at him. "Yes," he had said.

"Really?" Emma asked, feeling slightly awe-struck by the idea. She would be asking Remus and Elara just to make sure that Fenrir was telling her the truth. "What does she look like?"

"Beautiful," Fenrir said simply. "Small, but that's where her strength is. Remember, your wolf is you, Emma. Don't be afraid of her. She – you – are beautiful."

The conversation had ended there as Fenrir insisted that she go to bed, but it left her wondering. Was she afraid of herself? He made her question herself in an entirely different way, challenged her to think critically. Like Remus, he never had anything bad to say about her, and even if he called her stupid, there was a fondness to it. He never truly meant that she was stupid, but that he found the way she looked past the obvious foolish. This version of Fenrir was precisely why she could be fine with him around, but he could change his mood quickly. She wasn't sure she could handle always having to walk on eggshells around him. Emma would deal with her current situation, but she wasn't sure what to do for the future.

Emma lifted her left hand out of the water to look at the ring on her finger. She had seen Fenrir wearing it a few times, startled to see him wearing jewelry at all, but like everything else about him, she didn't look closely. It was a slim band that she was sure was made of silver. The idea of it being silver made her giggle.

She had quickly picked up that silver jewelry amongst werewolves was like an inside joke. Werewolf myth was so steeped with the idea of silver being harmful, but it affected them no differently than anyone else. Even Remus found humor in the silver myth and was more than happy to bring Emma in on the joke. It was why she loved her pawprint bracelet so much – the entire bracelet was a joke of itself.

Emma slowly spun the ring around her finger, looking at all of the runes etched into the silver amongst the braided design. She had found Fenrir's name first, the easiest of the runes for her to understand, and shortly after the word "wolf." The others she was unsure about, and she planned to write them down to look them up. Curious to know exactly what would happen if she took off the ring, Emma did exactly that. She didn't think that it could genuinely be tied to Fenrir's magic, but she was sorely mistaken.

The moment the ring was off her finger, she nearly dropped it from the sudden return of her headache. She quickly shoved the ring back on her finger and sunk deep into the bubbles, closing her eyes tightly to wait for the pain to subside. Emma wondered if Fenrir would have any idea if she took the ring off and could practically hear him calling her "stupid girl," and she wouldn't blame him. Whatever charms placed on the ring clearly did exactly as Fenrir said, and she had no idea why she thought otherwise.

The moment Emma crawled back into bed and her head hit her pillow, she fell asleep. She wasn't entirely sure if she had any dreams, but she only managed a light sleep. When her door opened, Emma was sitting up right away, hand clutching her wand tightly.

"Hey," Persephone said softly. She grimaced, seeing Emma's wand in her hand. "Sorry, thought I'd come to check on you since no one's seen you all day. Fenrir said to leave you alone, but you know me."

Emma let out a sigh of relief, rubbed her eyes, and nodded. "Always have to come and bother me," Emma said, setting her wand down.

"Where's Fenrir, anyway?" Persephone asked, making soft noises at Figaro to draw the kitten closer.

"He had a few things to do, but he'll be back," Emma said.

Persephone nodded, gathering Figaro up into her hands. "You and Fenrir seem a lot closer than I thought you would be," she said. "It's almost like a view of what could have been. He's like the scary and intimidating version of Remus, except you look nothing like Fenrir."

"To be fair, I didn't look like Dad in the beginning either. Could you imagine, though? Me as Emma Greyback and not Emma Lupin," Emma said quietly. "Actually, do you think he would have let me keep the Lupin name? He mostly likes my dad."

"Maybe," Persephone said with a shrug. "I just…he's very protective of you."

"He's always been protective of me, except for when he attacked me, of course. That's a bit hard for me to work through, but it's all difficult. I'm ready to head back to Hogwarts _just_ so I don't have to deal with the whole werewolf thing."

"Unless he turns you…"

"Unless he turns me, and currently, all signs point to yes."

"But you said you had a plan?"

Emma chuckled, shaking her head. "I don't think it'll work, though," Emma said. "When he comes back, Fenrir's only going to watch me make the potion, and I won't be able to sabotage it with him right there. I just need to avoid taking _one_ dose, and that'll set off the chain of events to making me sick enough to avoid him biting me while transformed."

"You just need to miss one dose?" Persephone asked, an eyebrow lifting conspiratorially.

"Just one," Emma confirmed, looking at Persephone curiously.

"Well, who said _you_ had to be the one to sabotage the potion?"

Emma straightened up and searched Persephone's face, a slow smile crossing her face. "I mean, no one said that, of course. It would be such a pity for me to set my dose to the side while bottling up the potion for Fenrir to sell and for my Dad to have."

On paper, it seemed like the perfect plan, even if it had its flaws. There was a strong possibility Fenrir would know that Emma had orchestrated, but doubt could easily be cast. Persephone had immunity from Ellis, and Fenrir wouldn't dare touch her. All there was to do was wait and see what would happen the next day.

Emma was disappointed when Fenrir didn't return around dinnertime. She was even more disappointed that Fenrir didn't return by the time she had gotten ready for bed. The room felt too big, and she felt lonely, but she didn't dare venture outside her door. It wasn't the right time for it.

Instead, Emma turned off all of her lights, sat in the window seat, and wrote to Remus under the moon's light with Figaro next to her. She told him of her fears for the full, and he wrote back reassuring words that made her feel a little better. It wasn't like at the children's home where he could try to keep her safe, and she was on her own.

' _You know that I don't want that life for you, and I would give everything I have to get you out of there_ ,' Remus wrote, not quite finishing his sentence. There was a long while before he continued on. ' _You know my advice will always be the same – fight back and for as long as you can. If the worst comes to be, we'll figure it out like we always do. I love you fy nghariad bach – don't ever forget that._ "

Emma never would, but her final thought before going to sleep was that she wished Remus would be the one to turn her, not Fenrir. Maybe she would bring it up to him again if she somehow managed to come out of this full moon bite-free.

When Fenrir still hadn't returned by the morning, Emma felt like her younger self. She felt much better than the day before, but it seemed odd. Just as Emma stepped out of the bathroom, Mitzy popped into her room.

"Miss Emma has a note from Mister Greyback," Mitzy said, passing an envelope to Emma. "He said to be telling Miss Emma that he apologizes that he couldn't stay long."

"Thank you, Mitzy," Emma said politely, carefully opening the envelope and pulling out the parchment enclosed. She immediately flushed when the first line mentioned her taking the ring off, mention of "stupid girl" included – he knew right away. That was embarrassing. It was a generic note that said he needed more time before he could return and to try and enjoy herself in the meantime. He reiterated that he expected her in one piece when he finally returned. To her surprise, Fenrir also added a note to say if she had to attack, to hold back and not show Jude her full strength, and Emma sighed. She supposed that she could do that, but she hoped she didn't have to at all.

Emma was less than enthused when she walked into the kitchen to see Jude with everyone else.

"Oh, good morning, Emma!" Sage said brightly, immediately sweeping Emma into a hug and putting her in the seat furthest from Jude. "How are you feeling today, love? Fenrir said you were having a rather difficult go of it yesterday."

"I'm doing much better today, thank you," Emma said politely, eyes growing wide at the number of sausages Sage was adding to her plate. She bit back her grin, looking up at Caspian with amusement.

"Mum, I think Emma has enough," Caspian said, covering his face.

"I'll take some more, please!" Elijah piped up.

"Oh, Merlin's beard," Sage said, looking at what she had done. "I'm so sorry."

"It's quite all right," Emma smiled. "Honestly, it's one of the best things I could be having right now."

"What's with the ring?" Jude asked from the other side of the table, his face twisted in disgust.

"Pardon?" Emma asked, trying to sound as polite as possible.

"The ring," Jude said slowly as if she were stupid. "Are you marrying the beast? I know that's his."

"Oh, is it really?" Emma asked, feigning surprise. She hummed quietly to herself, looking at the ring on her hand. "Well, it's a _lovely_ ring," she said. "Practical, really – he knows what I enjoy, the sweetheart. He proposed just the other night, got down on one knee and everything like a gentleman and all. We'll be getting married in Paris near the Louvre and honeymoon in Italy and spend plenty of time in Rome. Fenrir promised me a beautiful castle to live in when we return, and we'll have several litters of pups. I can't wait."

The looks on everyone's faces made the entire thing worth it. Persephone had walked in halfway through her story and was staring at Emma with wide eyes. Caspian and Elijah looked appalled, while Sage looked stunned. But nothing would compare to the matching looks of disgust on Jude and Ellis's faces. If Emma had her camera, she would take a photo because she wanted to remember it forever.

"I think I'm going to go be sick," Jude said, standing up and abandoning his breakfast. "Come on, Ellis. We have more important things to do right now."

"Dear Lord, Emma, he didn't really propose to you, did he?" Sage asked urgently when she felt Jude and Ellis were far enough away.

Emma burst into laughter, shaking her head. "No! But did you see his face? Absolutely brilliant!"

"Oh," Sage said, pressing a hand over her heart. "Oh, thank Merlin. I was trying to come up with every possible way to get you out of it if it were true."

"Then why do you have Fenrir's ring?" Persephone asked, finally sitting down.

"It's just a bit of magic to help me," Emma said with a shrug. "He would have to do a bit better than this if he were going to do anything of the sort. Although, if I ever said yes, please someone check me into St Mungo's because I clearly need the help."

It was somehow just the trick to keep Jude away from her for the rest of the day. As she made the Wolfsbane Potion, she debated whether or not to follow through on her plan. The temptation was there, but something told her to go through the process as usual. She didn't want to jeopardize the luck she was having with Fenrir and felt it would be better to go a different route. He was acting reasonably, and she was sure he would listen to her concerns.

Dinner went precisely as well as she would have hoped. Caspian and Elijah took Fenrir and Jude's usual seats forcing Jude to sit on the other side of the table and further away from Emma. When no one was looking, Emma gave Caspian's hand a tight squeeze in appreciation. Even though she had never talked to Caspian about Jude, he understood. Hufflepuffs stuck together no matter what. It made Emma understand the importance of what Fenrir was trying to tell her with the pack – she already lived that way, what difference did it make? Perhaps he really did know her decision before she had officially made it. She tried not to be disappointed when Fenrir still didn't return.

With or without the assistance of Fenrir's magic, Emma knew that the day before the full moon would be one of the worst. The next day would be miserable, of course, but the day before was a special type of Hell that she had to endure. It was always the day where Emma was fully prepared to beg to be bitten, Soleil howling loud in her mind. The words would sit on the tip of her tongue, just begging to be said, but she would never utter them aloud. Remus hated it, and Elara would only give her a sad smile and say that she couldn't do it. If Fenrir had bothered to show up that morning, she would have begged him. She never understood why it was always so much worse the day before, and no one had answers, but she forced herself to move forward.

Jude was overly attentive to every movement she made, and it didn't bode well for her. She knew enough to fight back if she needed to fight, but she wasn't sure that she could. Every part of her body was shaky and weak, and Jude was studying every move. It forced Emma to try and perk herself up as best as she could, needing to fall back into her old motto – never let them see you weak. She couldn't be anything less than strong.

Emma thought she was in the clear for the morning and was quietly working in the potion's lab. She was slowly starting to learn the house's layout even though she hadn't traveled out much. She was more concerned with staying out of the way, especially without Fenrir as a buffer.

Being in the potion's lab was a comfortable place for her. She felt at home among potion's ingredients and creating. Emma smiled slightly, thinking about the previous Christmas and Elara's comments over how messy she was while baking. She could never explain it but cooking and making potions seemed like two completely different worlds. So much about potion making was about precision, while cooking and baking could be fiddled with, and accuracy wasn't as needed. Of course, there were intricate recipes in cooking, but potions were magic, and some days Emma _really_ loved magic.

She faltered slightly when the door opened, her blood running cold when Jude walked in instead of Fenrir. Emma's eyes narrowed as she watched him and frowned deeply as he leaned against one of the counters.

"What are you doing in here?" Emma asked, paying closer attention to what she was doing. She refused to let him be the reason why she missed a step.

"Wondering why you keep avoiding me," Jude drawled.

Emma's head snapped up and her lips twisted into a sneer. "You know, that would be a good question if I gave a shit about you," she snarled. "Don't you have another illness to fake?"

"There was no faking it."

"Jude, you really need to stop with your act."

"Don't call me by my first name," he said through gritted teeth.

"If you expect me to call you father, you've another thing coming," Emma scoffed, carefully stirring the potion. "Fenrir was more of a father than you ever were. Besides, it's not as though you have any real interest in me."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"And that's supposed to make things better? I'm supposed to run to you and pretend that I want you in my life? It doesn't work like that."

"And yet you run to the beast after he made you uglier than you already were."

Emma glanced up from what she was doing. "Dad, Papa, and Fenrir think I'm beautiful," she shrugged. "That's enough."

"That's not saying much," Jude said lazily.

"Have you even looked at yourself in the mirror lately?" Emma laughed, taking a moment to give Jude a once over. "You pretend to be everything you're not. Perhaps you should get together with Snape – the amount of grease in your hair rivals his with all the product you insist on using." Emma leaned over the cauldron with an innocent smile. "And your nose is equally as horrid as his. I'm _so_ bloody glad that was one of the first things that changed about me because I couldn't stand the beak I inherited from you."

"Oh, so you think you're _so beautiful_ now, don't you?" Jude scoffed, his eyes darkening.

"I know I am," she shrugged. She didn't really feel that way, but Jude didn't need to know that. "And at least I don't pretend to be something I'm not."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"Absolutely nothing," Emma said, cutting the heat to the cauldron. She frowned slightly, looking between Jude and the empty potion bottles and the cauldron. She didn't trust him not to do anything with it. Ordinarily, Emma wouldn't consider the possibility of showing off, but she pulled her wand out and levitated two bottles over. She could do the rest after she had her dose for the day, and she hoped it would make her day a little easier.

"Mitzy," Emma called out, finally no longer reacting at the crack of the elf's arrival. She handed the elf the two bottles. "You know what to do with these. Tell Dad hello for me."

With the crack of the elf's departure, Emma found herself in a conundrum. The cups were next to Jude, and she wasn't about to use magic to try and get them. She wasn't going to use more magic than she needed, though it was tempting.

"What are you waiting for?" Jude asked.

Emma frowned, already starting to get a read into the type of person he was. He was the type of person to duel dirty, and she wondered just how much of a fighter he was. She didn't anticipate that Jude had done too much dueling over the years, but she wasn't entirely sure what he did with Ellis during the day. Emma was glad that Jude wasn't a werewolf because her heart was pounding so hard in her chest, she swore it would leap from her chest.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, scared her more than being stuck in a room with Jude. She could see his fingers practically itching to reach for his wand, and Emma already knew what he would strike with. He was still angry from the meeting at the Ministry, even if he had gotten Emma in the best possible place for whatever he planned. Could she be fast enough if he tried to attack? She trained with her father, and he was a skilled duelist, but she was arguably out of practice. The only reason she even managed with Fenrir was she had the element of surprise. Did she have enough energy to cast a silent disarming spell?

"You know, if I _really_ wanted to, it would be effortless to have you arrested," Jude said with a longsuffering sigh.

"For what?" Emma spat out. "I haven't even done anything."

Jude gave a slight shrug. "I mean, you're not meant to be doing magic outside of school, so that's one offense," he said. "Would be a shame if you were expelled just for a levitation spell. I believe consorting with the mangy mutt could possibly be another charge – who knows what you two could be planning? I'm not too sure the Ministry – especially Umbridge – would be too pleased to hear that. And just think of what that could mean? The laws that would be passed? It would change a lot, no? Not that your kind need rights in the first place. You're all dogs, after all, and need to be put down."

"Ellis would have to arrest himself for harboring a known fugitive, then," Emma shrugged. "We all know Fenrir's been a wanted criminal for years."

"No one ever said anything about Greyback," Jude said. "I know there's more than one dog, and wouldn't St Mungo's be interested to know they've had one in their midst for years? I can almost guarantee they would put her down if they knew everything she's done. I suggest putting your wand away. You don't want any trouble, do you?"

A chill ran down Emma's spine. She expected Jude to go after Remus, she expected him to go after Fenrir, but she never expected for him to go after Elara. Emma knew the gravity of what Elara had been doing over the years and knew just how much theft she had done. Elara's need to help others extended into using whatever resources she could get, no matter what. As far as they were all concerned, it was a victimless crime as people received the proper care, but that wouldn't be the case in the Ministry's eyes. But how did Jude even know that?

Reluctantly, Emma placed her wand in the back pocket of her jeans. It wasn't ideal, but she could hopefully grab it quickly if she needed it.

"Ah, so the dog _does_ know how to be obedient," Jude said. "What a surprise…"

Emma could just pass on taking the potion and just leave, but that still meant walking past Jude. If she made her way to the rest of the potion bottles, it would put more space between them, but they were glass, which was a problem. She could possibly cast a quick shield just in case, but she wasn't sure. Emma hoped that by not doing anything, it meant Fenrir would magically show up, but the effectiveness of the potion was going to deplete just sitting. Emma had no idea what she should do.

She ran her hands through her hair and ran them down her face. Her options were terrible, and Jude wasn't going anywhere. The only seemingly viable option was to try and pretend he wasn't there like she had done with Fenrir in the beginning. She slowly made her way over to the wall of bottles, careful to not have her back turned towards Jude. It was an awkward walk, but she needed to see what was coming.

Emma grabbed several bottles at once, and she thought she was somehow in the clear. She was beginning to think Jude was there just to make her nervous, but she refused to let her guard down. But then she did the stupidest thing she could possibly do – she let instinct take over at the worst possible time.

She had no idea how one thing led to another. A potion bottle began to fall off the shelf as she was readjusting the ones she already held. Just as she went to grab it, Jude had taken his opportunity to strike.

It had been years since she had felt the Cruciatus Curse, and somehow her mind had managed to forget how crippling it was. Every part of her body felt like it was lit up in white-hot flames. She felt as though she was being torn apart from the inside, knives stabbing her everywhere, even her bones. Emma had always thought that the wolfish side of her would help ease the assault of the curse, but she wasn't so lucky. Fenrir biting her was nothing compared to the pain she was experiencing, and then it was gone. At least most of it was. Emma didn't understand why her hands hurt so badly, and she forced her eyes open, panting hard through the residual shocks.

She shrunk back when she realized Jude was right in front of her. He grabbed her face hard, his fingers bruising as he squeezed her cheeks.

"You don't want to fuck with me, Lupin," he snarled. "You ruined everything the moment you were born, and I have been _waiting_ for the moment I can finally get rid of you. You weren't even wanted – remember that. How you got that beast to like you, I have no idea, but I hope he ruins you."

Jude shoved her back roughly as he stood, and Emma flinched as he spit at her. Emma watched him shakily as he left. She couldn't make a sound as he knocked the cauldron full of Wolfsbane off its holder as he walked by, spilling its contents on the floor.

She was in danger, and Emma felt that all of them had it all wrong. Fenrir was right – he wasn't entirely the monster people made him out to be; Jude was.

When Emma called for Mitzy, she had no idea why she lied to the elf about the mess. It was stupid, she knew it was ridiculous, but she couldn't bring herself to tell the truth. Even worse was letting the elf try to fix her up as best as possible.

The potion bottles had shattered spectacularly, and Emma was much more worried about the idea of glass being left. The damage was bad enough from the Cruciatus, and she didn't need any other issues. She didn't even bother letting the elf heal her cuts – they would heal on their own.

Emma made her way back to her room as quickly as she could. She threw her bloodied clothes on the floor of the bathroom and washed herself off, trying to check herself over. Elf magic was excellent, but she wasn't sure if it worked differently with her. Not seeing anything visible, Emma got into her pajamas and climbed back into bed. She didn't want to move from where she was, and the only movement she made was to write to Remus. While she didn't tell Remus everything that happened, she made sure to tell him to warn Elara of what Jude said. She knew that she should tell him, but he didn't need to be even more worried before the full. Things had gotten much more personal, and it felt like everything around her was suddenly a target. Emma could tell him everything when she could finally go home – if she survived that long.

She wasn't entirely sure when she had fallen asleep, but she awoke to familiar and furious growls. Emma's eyes snapped open, her entire body tensing with the anxiety of Fenrir being there when she wasn't expecting him. The sky was just beginning to darken, and she wondered exactly what time it was.

Emma was equal parts relieved and terrified that he was back, but he was _angry_ and holding her bloodied clothes that weren't cleaned up. It seemed questionable as if she had slipped back into old habits. Even worse, she knew her behavior was shifty – she usually held no issue holding his gaze, but she couldn't. She was ashamed of herself.

"What the fuck is this?" Fenrir growled, shaking her clothes in his fist. Emma thought Mitzy would have come around to get her laundry, but she wasn't that lucky. She flinched violently as his hand came up to turn her face to look at him, and he was quick to pull back. The growl that followed was deadly, and it sent a chill down Emma's spine. He was much slower about his actions, his touch featherlight as he lifted her face. "What the fuck did he do to you?"

Fenrir was demanding but patient with her as she stuttered out what had happened. She was proud of herself for not crying, but everything about her was shaky, and it was difficult to speak. Her throat felt raw, her voice beyond hoarse. If it weren't for Fenrir's gentle urging, Emma didn't think she would have managed to tell him. By the time she finished telling him what happened, Fenrir appeared eerily calm, but his eyes were dark. He combed his fingers through her hair, and he straightened up, looking like he was on a mission.

"I'm sure it goes without saying, but don't leave this room," he warned. "I'm casting a silencing charm, but I can't guarantee it'll hold. If you hear anything, ignore it. I think it's about time Jude finally learns a little lesson."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy belated Christmas/holidays! I meant to write that in the last chapter and then completely forgot. 
> 
> Anyway - BAH. I knew there would be a warning for Jude at some point, but ya know...he's actual trash. He's like...I hate him. I know his motives behind everything he does, but also I HATE HIM. I thought I hated Fenrir, but Jude...Ooooooooh boy. There's a lot more to Judas than written so far.
> 
> Now, Fenrir...OH, FENRIR. That's all I'm going to say about that - take that how you will. Could mean I absolutely love him, could mean I absolutely hate him. Time will tell, eh? :)
> 
> I guess because the dynamic is coming out now rather than later, I'm going to admit something. I 100% have always had it in my head that Emma and Fenrir together radiate STRONG Jaskier and Geralt vibes from The Witcher. It was a very unintentional move on my part, but as their arc has evolved in the super hidden secret parts of my mind and my notes, it happened. Fenrir is still a terrible person, but when he's not terrible, they get along well enough. There's enough history there that Emma's comfortable not really giving a shit about what Fenrir thinks, and vice versa. However, PLEASE remember - Fenrir is NOT a nice person, and I want to make that very clear.
> 
> **To all my late night readers, go to bed! I love you, good night! :)**
> 
> **come find me on:**   
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> 
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> 


	28. What Do You Want?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **tw:** another MILD? Fenrir is a warning of himself - AKA Fenrir Greyback does Fenrir Greyback things, but like...you'll see. Fenrir likes to make things really weird. Expect nothing and everything.

Emma felt it was dreadful to stay in her bed just waiting, wanting to know desperately what Fenrir could be doing. It was even more dreadful when he finally returned, slamming the door much too hard for her liking. Even worse was Fenrir's deep growl of anger, and though Emma knew it wasn't directed towards her, it still scared her.

"Get up," he demanded.

Emma stared back at him with wide eyes, and the moment he lifted an impatient eyebrow at her, she scrambled out of bed. It was a feat that was much more difficult than she thought it would be, and her face burned in embarrassment. She knew that it wasn't her fault, but she couldn't even look at Fenrir.

"How thorough do you think the elf was?" he growled out, slowly crossing the room.

"D-dunno," Emma squeaked out, holding herself close. Every bit of her skin was sensitive to touch, and her bones felt as though they had little electric shocks running through them. It was cruel that a spell like the Cruciatus even existed because no one should ever know what it was like. Tears sprung up in her eyes from the mixture of the pain she felt and knowing that Sirius had been frequently subjected to it. The worst of the pain stopped almost immediately, but the residual effects were prolonged.

"Look at me," Fenrir said when he was right in front of her. Emma reluctantly looked up from the floor, just barely meeting Fenrir's stare. He crooked a finger underneath her chin to keep her from moving her face away.

"First rule of the pack, Emma – we take care of each other," Fenrir said, his tone suggesting he wasn't going to hear any argument. "Second rule – get used to everyone seeing everything. It's useless being embarrassed or ashamed of your body. Injuries are common, especially on a particularly rowdy night, and usually in places you can't take care of yourself. There's no place for shyness."

"Fenrir," Emma whined, "I don't…"

"Do you _want_ to deal with having glass under your skin? I can tell you from experience it's uncomfortable if left for a long time."

"No."

"Turn around then. We'll start with your back. Leave your shirt on if you're so worried about me _seeing_ something."

Emma sighed, giving Fenrir a reproachful look before turning around. She knew he was right, but it was humiliating. It was _Fenrir_.

"I've done this for a very long time, Emma," Fenrir said, lifting the back of Emma's shirt. "I've seen it all at this point. I'll spare you the details since you're still a pup for another few weeks, but I'm sure you can imagine how things were during the war."

"It feels like I'm in my own bloody war," Emma muttered, hissing as Fenrir touched a spot on her back that sent a jolt of pain down her spine.

"If the rat succeeds, then we're all going to be in one," Fenrir murmured. He tutted softly, running his fingers over the same spot to double-check for what he was looking for. "And this is why I wanted to check myself. Do you have tweezers? I doubt you're going to want me to use my nails to get this."

"I'm a girl. Of course I have tweezers," Emma grumbled. "It would take me too long to get them right now, though, so you'll have to. They're in the red bag on the counter in the bathroom." She watched out of the corner of her eye as Fenrir lifted his wand and said bag flew from the bathroom. Emma shot Fenrir a look over her shoulder, and he smirked.

"That was fastest," he said, digging through the bag and tossing it over on the bed when he found the tweezers. "This is going to hurt, but I'll try to be quick about it."

"To be fair, everything hurts, so I'm not sure it makes a difference at this point," she said, closing her eyes tightly to try and ignore what Fenrir was doing. "What do you mean if the rat succeeds? Are you talking about Peter?"

"The rat is working to help bring Voldemort back to power –"

"But Voldemort's dead," Emma insisted.

"That's what I thought, but I've seen him."

"You've _seen_ Voldemort? You're joking."

"Have I lied to you yet?"

"No, but there's always a first."

"Well, that's true, but I wouldn't waste my time and lie about this. The rat is working with Voldemort again, along with a few others, to try and bring him back."

"Why are you telling me this? Couldn't I just tell Dumbledore, and that would be the end of it?"

"Ah, but that would mean that Dumbledore, the renowned leader of the Light, doesn't have a plan of his own," Fenrir said. "If you think that Dumbledore isn't waiting for Voldemort's return, you're sorely mistaken, little one. Another war _is_ coming, and that's why I keep telling you that you won't want to be on the wrong side."

"And fighting alongside Voldemort is right?"

"I told you – there is no light or dark, especially when it comes to us. We're not welcome on either side, and I'm not ignorant enough to believe otherwise."

"So then why did you work with Voldemort in the first place?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"I think I do."

"The rewards," Fenrir said. "All the prey my pack and I could ever want, gifts, and the opportunity to grow the pack all for the low price of our service. I've told you time and time again that we're superior to wizards, and I wasn't going to pass up the chance to grow our numbers. Imagine my surprise when a little thing like you came into the picture."

"That sounds almost like your goal was to build an army of werewolves."

"Still is."

"So, what purpose do I serve? You know I'm not interested in 'werewolf supremacy,' so I don't know why you keep me around," Emma huffed. "Did _you_ even want me back then? Jude made it sound like no one wanted me."

"Do you want the truth?"

"I'd rather know."

"I didn't," Fenrir admitted. "You were too small for me to do anything with. I couldn't turn you; it wasn't even worth keeping you as a snack. I had no idea what to do with you."

"You would have _eaten_ me?"

"Humans are prey for werewolves, you know that," Fenrir pointed out. "We're magical creatures. Why do you think your diet changed completely? It's the same for you, half or not; you're a creature, too. It's the natural order of things. Now, if I were to you as you are now, _that_ would be a different story."

Emma could argue on several points, but she was too busy focused on the idea of being considered a snack to care. "I can't believe that you would have eaten me," Emma huffed. She yelped when she felt something wet on her back. She whipped her head around to look at Fenrir, and her jaw dropped when she found him wiping at his mouth with his sleeve. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Healing your wounds. Get over it," Fenrir said. "It's faster than waiting for your body to start healing itself and even faster than using Dittany. You should know that already."

"Fenrir, please do _not_ tell me that you just licked me."

"Then I won't tell you," he said. "Turn around so I can check your front."

Emma began grumbling under her breath and immediately turned her face away when she turned around to face him. She didn't want to look at Fenrir as he inspected her. She knew he wasn't wrong, and she had taken advantage of that fact several times, but it was still _odd._ It was one thing for her to pull a cut finger into her mouth to heal it quicker; it was entirely different to have Fenrir do it.

"You could have told me before you did it, you know," Emma growled.

"And have you complain like you are now? I was saving myself the headache," Fenrir chuckled. "Since I've already done it, you'll be less likely to complain when I most likely have to do it again. The elf seemed to have gotten most of the glass, but not all of it."

"Go back to the whole me not being worth a snack," Emma grumbled. "What changed?"

"Well, I suppose that's the only thing you can thank Jude for," Fenrir said, checking over Emma's right arm first. "He showed me just how much magic you had for such a tiny little thing, and I was intrigued. Besides, I take care of what's mine, and you were decidedly mine to do whatever I pleased with."

"Wonderful," Emma muttered.

"It was. Honestly, you didn't even need my assistance with Monty, but you were too small, and I wasn't letting him get away with his shit," Fenrir said. "The amount of raw power you had was impressive."

"I don't really even remember it. I remember what he did, but I don't remember much after that."

"You were exhausted, so that's not surprising. The moment you were in my arms, you settled down and fell asleep. I realized right then that I was given something special."

"See, that's where you lose me," Emma said. "You say things like that, but it doesn't seem like the case at all. I can't grasp what made you decide to wait and why you made me suffer for so long. I don't understand what you want from me anymore, and I don't understand why it feels like you change your mind all the bloody time. My first year when you came to see me, you terrified me, and that lasted the entirety of my second year." She finally turned her head to look at Fenrir, and she frowned slightly as his fingers traced over her self-inflicted scars. "Last year, I couldn't figure you out – I was terrified of you, and then you changed seemingly out of nowhere. And now…Y-you confuse me, and I don't like it because I don't know what to think."

"And I don't understand why you would have thought you were anything less than special," Fenrir said, lifting Emma's arm and turning it, so she was forced to look at the scars she had caused herself. "I never expected _this_ from you because you were nothing but an incredibly happy child. I wasn't planning on coming to you again until you were of age, but when I heard what you had done…it was unacceptable. Something was obviously wrong, and I needed to figure out what was going on. There was no reason why you should be with your father and feel the need to go as far as you did."

"You don't even know the entire situation," Emma said, looking away. "Besides, even if I remembered everything when I saw you the first time last year, it wouldn't have made sense. You were never around long enough to make it seem like you cared."

"Because I didn't want you to get attached. I wasn't your father, and I made sure that you knew that."

"Well, I got attached," Emma growled, angry tears springing up in her eyes. "And I _still_ don't understand what I'm supposed to be to you. I'm starting to think that _you_ don't even know anymore, not exactly. You have ideas of what you could possibly want, which is why things change all the time, but nothing is concrete." When Fenrir didn't respond, Emma nodded slightly. "That's what I thought."

"I know what I want," Fenrir said slowly. "I'm waiting for you to accept that you've made certain decisions already. I told you that I would give you your time, and time is ticking, Emma."

"I'm aware," Emma muttered.

Fenrir sighed and looked down at Emma's pajama bottoms. "You know I need to check the rest of you," he said, raising his eyebrows. Emma almost would have preferred to be hit with the Cruciatus again than be so exposed.

"Give me my wand," Emma said sharply. She practically ripped it out of Fenrir's hand, and she glared at him when he laughed. "I will not hesitate to hex you if I think you're doing anything questionable. The only reason…Merlin's saggy tits…the only reason I'm even letting you do this is…"

"Because you trust me?" Fenrir asked, looking thoroughly amused. Emma couldn't dare bring herself to admit it. He hummed thoughtfully and seemed almost apologetic. "Are you being difficult, or are you waiting for me to remove your bottoms for you?"

Emma sucked in a deep breath and shot Fenrir another look. "We are never going to speak of this again after today," she said. "My summer's been odd enough, and I really would rather forget today." Emma didn't know that wouldn't be the last time she said those exact words to Fenrir.

She practically launched herself back into her bed the moment she could. Emma had no desire to have any recollection that Fenrir had found more shards of glass in her right leg and what followed. There were certain things that she just never wanted to know, and that was high up on her ever-growing list. A nice, calming cuddle with Figaro seemed like a much better idea.

"So…what did you do with Jude?" Emma asked after a while.

"Nothing," Fenrir answered gruffly, reaching for his cigarettes.

"Nothing?" Emma winced at just how disappointed she actually sounded and ducked her head when Fenrir looked at her with curiosity.

"Well, well, someone has a bit of bloodlust, don't they? Should I even bother to do anything, or shall I let you have your chance at revenge?"

"I just…he would deserve whatever you did to him," Emma said quietly, pulling Figaro close. "I just thought…"

"The bastard wasn't here," Fenrir replied. "Dirty little coward saw me come in and ran. I would go after him, but I'm not about to leave you here by yourself again. I said for you to be in one piece, and you weren't."

"I mean, _technically_ I was in one piece, just not entirely whole," Emma said, rubbing the back of her neck.

"And you are incredibly like your father," Fenrir growled. "Did you tell him what happened?"

"Not…entirely."

"You should," Fenrir said slowly.

"I'd rather wait until the full's over…I don't want to stress him out even more. I told him about what Jude said about Elle, but that's it. As far as he's concerned, I'm fine, and that's how I would prefer to keep it. He'll be cross with me later, but it's not like he hasn't kept secrets from me before."

"That's noble."

"I've caused him enough pain with my decisions, and I'm not going to make things even more difficult for him."

"Why do you make it sound like what happened today was your decision?"

"Because it felt like it," Emma replied brokenly. "Jude took things to a place I didn't even know he could take it. If I'm going to be honest, I've always imagined that you would be the reason for my downfall. I never expected any of this. I never thought that there would be a time where I could sit with you like this and have it be…as normal as it can be."

"Who's to say that I won't kill you?"

"Because you've had the opportunity so many times, and you haven't done it yet."

Fenrir lifted his hands, palms up in Emma's direction as if he were gesturing to something majestic. "Perfection," he said around the cigarette held between his lips. "Absolute perfection. See? This is exactly what I've been trying to tell you. You are a _dream_ when you actually use that pretty little head of yours to think things through. Why wouldn't I want to keep you around?"

"But as _what_ Fenrir?"

"What do you think?"

Emma frowned, feeling as if she were to walk into a trap if she answered exactly what she thought. "I want you to be the one to tell me," she replied, trying to hold back her yawn and failing miserably. "But you seem to avoid answering me."

She had been subject to Fenrir's close scrutinization many times over the past week, but not to the extremes he was looking at her now. His expression shifted from curiosity to adoration, to someone who looked as though they had a massive secret. Sometimes she felt like she saw a completely different side of Fenrir that no one else ever saw, and that made things even more bizarre.

"We'll have time to discuss it," Fenrir said slowly, lifting his head slightly to peer at her down his nose. "Perhaps we can come up with something that benefits us both. I think I would be open to some sort of partnership. I think you would, too." His eyes raked over her, and Emma felt herself blush. "Get some rest in the meantime. I'll wake you when it's time for dinner."

Emma doubted that anything that they would come up with would benefit them both, but at least Fenrir was willing to talk. A month ago, Emma didn't think that would be possible, and she figured that it was one of the only good things that came out of Jude being around. It still didn't change the fact that she had to be careful around Fenrir, and she had to force herself to do as he said, but it was a start. Besides, having a nap wasn't such a terrible idea.

If someone were to tell her that there would come a time where she welcomed Fenrir's presence, she wouldn't have believed them. Not even Trelawney would have been able to predict her being at all comfortable with Fenrir around. Hell, Emma couldn't even have expected it, even while being in the middle of it.

It seemed far-fetched that she knew that Fenrir loved anything with honey, hated chocolate, and loved vegetables. He had apricot jam on his toast, overindulged on bacon and sausage, and wasn't particularly fond of eggs. He preferred his meats to be practically raw, but he would take things cooked just to switch things up while in polite company. Fenrir refused to admit it, but he had a secret obsession with strawberries and a terrible sweet tooth. Emma had found Fenrir raiding her stash of sugar quills on more than one occasion, and he wasn't shy about coming over to snatch a jelly slug when she was eating them. Then again, Fenrir wasn't exactly shy about anything.

Emma had been shocked to find out that Fenrir played guitar – and played very well. She had wondered what he did in his spare time, but for some reason, it never occurred to her that he would like music. It was a welcome surprise when he left for a few minutes to bring some of his things to the house and returned with his guitar. She didn't mind sitting close by and reading while he played – it was a lot nicer than being in silence. Emma didn't care to conceal her delight when Fenrir brought a small wireless radio with him a different time because it made her feel like she was home. The only time the radio was off was when he was playing his guitar.

After having consecutive semi-formal dinners, it was nice to once again not have to join the rest of the household. Fenrir didn't want Emma anywhere near Jude, and she wasn't opposed to staying in her room any longer. She felt much safer in her small sanctuary, and she was used to entertaining herself.

She supposed her time away from home wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. Emma had noticed the noticeable absence of Persephone, though. She had doubts about Fenrir's lack of trust in Persephone, but Persephone rarely came around. Emma had seen Caspian more than Persephone, but his attention was continually drawn back to Elijah. They could talk more once school started, but it was evident that she was suddenly a stranger in their home. Emma didn't entirely mind, Fenrir wasn't terrible company when he was normal, but she _missed_ Persephone. It seemed strange that she was right down the hall, but yet it seemed like they were further apart than ever.

Her attention was drawn out the window when she heard the rumble of thunder on the horizon. Emma stood up shakily with her dinner and crossed over to the window seat, wanting to be nearby when the rain finally started. She leaned against the window frame, sitting sideways on the bench seat. She ate slowly, mostly because her entire body was still shaky, and she was reminded too much of having to relearn how to do things the previous summer.

"Has anyone ever told you that your thoughts are loud? I can practically hear them," Fenrir said into the silence.

A small smile crossed Emma's face as she set her plate down on the windowsill. "I think Dad's brought it up a time or two," she said jokingly.

"Ah," Fenrir said slowly. "And there's Emma Lupin's code for she's heard it at least several times a week. Anything you'd like to share with the class?"

"It would take me weeks to go through every single thought I have," Emma said. "But I do find the whole thing with you being pure-blood fascinating."

"The Noble and Ancient House of Black isn't the only pure-blood family, princess," Fenrir said.

"Oh, buggering fuck, don't ever call me that again," Emma shuddered. "I'm the furthest away from being a princess."

"You might as well be considered the princess of the Black family," Fenrir shrugged.

"I'd rather not think about it," Emma said. "I've had an identity crisis for the past three years; I don't need your help in that department. Although, that does bring up a question I've been mulling over."

"And what's that?"

"If you would have gone and taken me in the first place, what would my name have been? I don't imagine you would have left me saddled with 'Emelyn Nickels.'"

"Oh, fuck no," Fenrir said, his face twisting in disgust. "You would have been Emma. Unless you decided to take your wolf's name."

"All right, so...Emma _what?_ Emma Lupin?"

"Probably not. I would have most likely given you my name, especially if I decided to still send you to Hogwarts."

"So, then Emma Greyback?" Emma asked.

There was the smallest moment of hesitation from Fenrir, and Emma picked up on it quickly. That didn't happen often.

"On second thought, I would have given you a different name," he said. "Greyback would have been too conspicuous, and I wouldn't have wanted people going after you just because of your name. That's something you should keep in mind even now – you don't want too many people to know you're a Black." Fenrir seemed to think about it for a moment, and he set down his fork, leaning back in his chair. "Fenmore. You would have been Emma Fenmore."

"Fenmore?" Emma questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Why Fenmore?"

"It's common enough that it wouldn't draw too much attention," Fenrir shrugged. "You would be better going under the radar if you were mine."

"So then would you have made me still look like Jude?"

"Absolutely not," Fenrir said, making Emma giggle at his vehement proclamation. "I would have done the same thing as I did with the dog, but obviously with your father, so you would look just as you do now."

"Just without the scars…"

"Not necessarily. You would have been a wolf several years ago. Accidents happen."

"Ah, so then you would have let me transform in the Shrieking Shack every month like Dad while I was in school. Got it."

Fenrir looked less than amused as he looked over at Emma. "Must you have a comment for every plan that I have?"

"I'm just pointing out the flaws," Emma said. "Again – your fault."

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Is this your way of trying to convince me _not_ to turn you tomorrow?"

"Surprisingly no," Emma said with a nervous laugh. "Just absolutely abysmal timing, really. I was just making the point that it would be miserable. I've seen the inside of the Shack, and that's no place for anyone to be – werewolf or not. If that was the life I had to live, I would obviously have no choice but to accept it, but knowing you… At the end of the day, you would either have to keep me with the pack and not allow me to get an education or let me remain human and have no issues."

Emma swore that Fenrir's eye twitched. She certainly didn't miss the way his hands balled into fists or the way he licked his teeth in aggravation. Emma gulped, quickly looking away; that wasn't the reaction she was trying to go for.

"I know you're going to do what you're going to do, and I've mostly come to terms with that, I suppose. Honestly, I'm not even as terrified of the whole idea like I thought I would be," Emma said with a grimace. "I'm just saying, especially if you're very insistent on my going back to Hogwarts, I don't particularly like the idea of transforming alone. I doubt Dumbledore would be willing to have you anywhere near the school, and Dad's currently stuck in Ministry lock up."

"God fucking damn it," Fenrir growled. He took a deep breath. "Why do you insist on making this difficult?"

"I'm not making it difficult," Emma insisted. "I think I know you well enough that you wouldn't be too thrilled with the arrangement I would have to take. Remember – I was just asking about the fictional life I would have had. You're the one who brought up tomorrow."

"You are _infuriating_."

"Fenrir, I swear it wasn't my intention to anger you," Emma replied quietly. She stuck her hand out the window to let the rain touch her skin, and she closed her eyes at the cool relief that she felt on her skin. The rain was cool enough that it toned down the lingering fire underneath the surface, though it didn't reach her aching bones. "I had time to think about it while you were away, and it scares me, but I think I'm more worried about the bite itself. Dad described what it feels like afterward, and we think it won't be as terrible since I'm already infected, but… Maybe it's the anticipation of it that worries me, I don't know. Can't be that much worse than the Cruciatus, I don't think…" Emma opened her eyes and pulled her hand back in to twist Fenrir's ring around her finger. She had been doing that a lot lately when her thoughts were too much to deal with.

When Emma looked back at Fenrir, he still looked aggravated, but he looked as though he was working through a complicated puzzle. Either Emma had done the wrong thing by voicing her thoughts, or she had just bought herself more time without meaning to. She had learned it was easier to be honest with Fenrir from the start, and she didn't mind being open with him. Emma didn't care about Fenrir's feelings like she did with Remus, and if she hurt him in some way, it didn't matter. It wasn't like Fenrir cared to sugarcoat anything for her, and she wasn't about to for him either.

"What do you want, Emma?"

"What do you mean this time?"

Fenrir made his way over to the window seat and sat down next to her. "What do you want out of life?"

"Well, that's an…awfully difficult question to answer, isn't it?"

"Not really. Allow me to rephrase my question then – what do you think you would want in the future. I knew I wanted power. What do _you_ want?"

Emma felt that it was still a hard question to answer.

"Happiness," she said after a few minutes of thinking about it. "I don't care for money, I never did. I want my family, but I think that's a given. I think I really just want to be happy."

"And what if I could guarantee you happiness? I don't think I've seen you this at ease in years."

"Because I haven't been. I've either accepted my situation, or I'm resigned to it. I haven't decided," Emma said sadly. "As for you guaranteeing my happiness? Well, that would come down to the conditions, no? That seems like a lofty guarantee, even from you. I have more money than I know what to do with – surely I can buy happiness if I'd like."

"I would be inclined to believe that if you didn't just tell me you weren't interested in money."

"That was my mistake, then."

Fenrir chuckled. "It was," he said. "Tell you what – if you are willing to continue our discussions, then you're safe another full moon. You didn't ask me for more time; I'm extending it as a courtesy in that matter. Besides, once again, I'm not sure you would survive, and I told you I'm not taking chances. I still expect your final decision after your birthday of where your loyalties lie, but I've been patient. I crave to see you finally running free where you belong, but your education is important, and I don't have the time to devote to teaching you myself. Not now, at least."

"What are the conditions?" Emma asked skeptically.

"My only condition is that you're willing to meet with me, and we discuss our situation – like adults and as equals. You're more than capable of making your own decisions, and I think it's time you start doing things for yourself."

"And I have your word? That would be your only condition? No loopholes or added conditions as you see fit?"

"You have my word," Fenrir said, holding his hand out for her to shake. "Do we have a deal?"

"Well, I've already made several deals with the devil, might as well make another," Emma said, reluctantly putting her hand in Fenrir's. At least it was another month she was kept from being a werewolf.

Sometimes it felt like Fenrir's goal in life was to embarrass Emma as much as he possibly could. She felt terrible after missing the potion the day before, and she wanted to be angry at Fenrir for making her smile.

"It's actually adorable when you sleep," Fenrir said when he woke her up earlier than usual. He wanted to make sure she could send her potion to Remus before leaving for his stay at the Ministry, which she appreciated. "Are you aware that you curl up like a pup?"

"Fenrir, it's much too early for this," Emma said, walking barefoot to the potion's lab. She was ignoring every ounce of potion's safety, but she didn't care. Unless she had another incident like the day before, which was very unlikely with Fenrir around, she would be fine.

"It's sweet," Fenrir said. He threw his arm out to stop Emma from entering the potion's lab and did a quick sweep with his wand. "Don't know why you insist on going barefoot."

"Because I am getting right back into bed after this," Emma said with a yawn. "And I can practically make this potion in my sleep. Besides, I don't anticipate any issues today with you here."

She practically leaned on Fenrir as she worked. Cutting ingredients was a little more difficult with her exhaustion, but she pushed through. She refused to sacrifice the quality of the potion just because she was tired.

"It's adorable. You curl up into such a tiny little ball," Fenrir said. "With the number of blankets you insist on using, you get lost. I didn't think I was even going to be able to find you. I found your cat quicker than I found you."

"Yes, but Fig is also food motivated," Emma pointed out. "She's not very hard to find."

"I'm sure if I were to wave a bar of chocolate near you, you would come running."

Emma couldn't help her smile. "Unfortunately, I have to agree."

"Have you always done that? That night I came to see you in your first year, you were in such a strange position that I had no idea how you found it comfortable."

"Ah, no," Emma said. "The way I sleep was a side effect of my infection, actually. I don't do it all the time, but obviously, I do it more just before the full."

Emma was relieved that Jude didn't make an appearance. If he did, she worried it would ruin her moment of relaxation. She could brew potions all day, and she had a few times while working with Madam Pomfrey. Perhaps she would have to suggest adding a potion's lab for her if Remus still planned to renovate the cottage.

"Did you like taking potions in school?" Emma asked curiously as she bottled up the potion.

Fenrir gave a slight shrug. "I didn't mind it, but it wasn't what I was interested in."

"What did you like, then? Obviously you're interested in divination. Did you discover that you enjoyed it as a student or after you graduated?"

"I enjoyed the practice of divination before going to school," Fenrir said. Emma waited for him to expand on that thought, but he didn't. "I liked Transfiguration best."

Emma hummed thoughtfully. "That makes sense, actually. What about charms? I know that you're one of the only people I've ever met who enjoyed History of Magic."

"Charms was a very useful class. I wasn't fond of it, but I learned to appreciate it after I graduated," Fenrir said, accepting his glass of Wolfsbane.

Fenrir walked her back to her room, keeping a close eye on the hallway. "Don't go back to sleep yet. I'll make my sales, and then we'll have breakfast."

Emma agreed but wound up falling right back asleep anyway.

"You are going to be a terrible wolf if you can't stay up," Fenrir said when he woke Emma back up.

"Good thing I've got some time, then," she said, stretching herself out.

"Be careful – I might alter the deal."

"You won't," Emma yawned. "You love me too much."

Fenrir grunted in response and shook his head. Emma hadn't meant to say it, but she considered it confirmation even if he didn't admit to it.

She was beyond relieved that Fenrir let her sleep the day away as he planned to do the exact same thing. Emma woke up every few hours and was surprised to finally see him sleeping over on his couch. She wondered if he knew that he sometimes curled up like she did when he wasn't stretched out. Emma would take a few moments to watch him and then close her eyes when nausea would sweep through her. Even though she felt herself growing sluggish, putting her incident with Jude aside, she could say it was one of her better weeks.

Emma wanted to sleep through dinner, but Fenrir practically hauled her out of bed to sit at the table.

"You are going to eat, and then you are going to have the elf bring your cat to Persephone for the night," he said, pinning Emma with a fierce look.

"Why am I moving my cat? She's meant to help with the night," Emma said with a frown.

"Because even though I'm not turning you, I'm still spending the night with you. I'll be fine around you, but I don't think you'd appreciate me accidentally killing your car."

Emma didn't expect that at all, and her frown deepened. The idea of spending the night with Fenrir in his wolf form was scary, but maybe it would be all right. He had taken the Wolfsbane Potion all week, of course intending to turn her, but they had their deal. Hopefully, he would remember that and not strike.

"You know, you never did tell me how things went with the pack," Emma said carefully as Mitzy brought them dinner. "What happened?"

"A few of the more vocal pack members were aggravated that I wasn't around," Fenrir said roughly. "They seem to believe that I'm abandoning the pack."

"Oh," Emma said quietly. "But you wouldn't."

"No, but I can see why it seems that way," Fenrir muttered.

"Why would they feel that way?"

Fenrir looked up at Emma. "Because they've smelled you on me. You smell like one of us," he explained. "They doubt that you're even real as I go to wherever you are. I had to put a stop to the nonsense."

"And that took more than one day to do?"

"Our conflict resolution isn't typical," Fenrir said slowly. "But the problem has been taken care of."

It took Emma a few minutes to understand that he meant it involved fighting. She wasn't sure that she wanted to know what Fenrir meant by the problem being taken care of. Sometimes she was glad that Fenrir didn't tell her _everything_.

"I'll be back," Fenrir said as the moon continued to rise in the sky. "I'll be transforming with the rest of the pack and come back."

"How are you going to do that?" Emma asked in alarm. "The pack is close enough?"

"We're close enough, and I haven't had a good run in a while," Fenrir said, rolling his shoulders. He bent down to kiss the top of Emma's head. "I should be back by midnight."

Emma had no idea how exactly Fenrir planned to get to her room, but she didn't dare question it. As tired as she was, Soleil was hitting the point where she wouldn't be quiet. As the moon drew higher, Emma gave a soft press of her bracelet and smiled at Remus's returning touch. She was grateful that Fenrir didn't care to keep her from Remus and didn't question her when she got lost writing in her notebook. Fenrir seemed to know better than to question it and fully acknowledged that he would prefer she was with her father.

She took a look around the room, wishing that she wasn't entirely alone. Fenrir had made Mitzy set multiple charms on the door to keep people out and requested everyone else stay on the other side of the house. It had made Emma worried, but Fenrir assured her it was so that there wouldn't be any visitors. He told her multiple times that she would be all right with him but wanted to make sure Jude didn't dare think to come around. As far as anyone was concerned, Fenrir was still in the room with her.

When her skin felt particularly prickly, Emma made her way over to the window. She rubbed her forehead furiously, Soleil talking to her more and more. It was aggravating on an average day, but Soleil talked even more with Fenrir around. There had been a moment earlier that day that Soleil had made Emma freeze completely.

 _Packpackpackpackpack_ Soleil repeated over and over again. Emma was sure she would drop down on her front legs into a play bow in pure happiness when Fenrir came back. It was the exact same way that she felt around Moony, and Emma was terrified it was going to be the same thing with Fenrir. She felt betrayed by her own mind, and Emma couldn't help but wonder if Fenrir knew her decision already because Soleil was insistent. And loud. Very insistent and very loud. Emma hated it.

The only thing that made it all right in Emma's mind was Soleil hadn't given any sort of designation to Fenrir. The moment that happened, Emma had no idea what she would do. Soleil had claimed Moony as precisely that – Moony. Soleil knew that Moony was both father and sired her, but he was just _Moony_. It made Emma laugh when she made the Moomy association, and she felt that Soleil had picked up on that memory. It was fitting because when she was feeling particularly silly, she would refer to Remus exclusively as Moomy.

"Oh, shut up, Soleil," Emma growled, closing her eyes tightly and rubbing her forehead. She must have made herself sad thinking about Remus because Soleil responded in kind with pathetic whines and pitiful whimpers. "You are literally the worst part of me, and I can't stand you right now. The bloody potion was meant to make you shut up."

Emma's eyes snapped open at the sound of a howl. She was determined not to howl back on pure instinct, and she growled when Soleil called back loudly in her mind. _PackFenrirpack_. Another loud howl rang out through the night, and Emma had to clamp her hands over her mouth.

 _FenrirpackFenrirpackFenrirpack._ She was going to kill Fenrir for howling because she was determined not to respond. It didn't take too much longer for Fenrir to appear, a massive blur running from the horizon, fur glimmering in the moonlight.

Fenrir only slowed down when he approached the house, and Merlin _he was huge_. Emma assumed that Fenrir was going to be a massive wolf, but he terrifying to look at. His fur looked dark, but with a grey sheen just as his name suggested. His amber eyes reflected brightly from the moonlight as he stared up at her. He was equal parts beautiful and terrifying, and she had to admit that Fenrir as a wolf was a sight to behold. She pitied anyone whose last view was Fenrir as a wolf because he struck fear in her even on the Wolfsbane Potion.

He barked at her, and Emma raised her eyebrows at him. "You know, for a wolf, I would think you would be above a common dog's bark," Emma said. He growled at her, and as if to prove a point, he howled a third time, and Emma covered her mouth again. When she didn't howl back, he barked at her again. "I am _not_ howling, Fenrir. Now, if you'll excuse me, now that you are here, I am going to bed."

Emma stood up and shot Fenrir a final glare, and made her way to her bed. She froze when she heard what sounded like four paws landing on the floor and whipped around so fast that she lost her balance from dizziness. Before she could get anywhere near the ground, Fenrir was under her to keep her from falling. Emma clutched hard to Fenrir, her eyes growing wide as he turned his head to look at her and gave her a soft growl.

"Did you climb up the side of the house?" Emma asked. "I knew werewolves could climb, but Fenrir, that was scary quick."

Fenrir let out a soft wuff and twisted himself further to nudge Emma's arm with his nose to get her to straighten up. She almost didn't want to, his body warm and fur soft, but he licked her, and that was all the incentive she needed.

Emma reluctantly straightened up and somehow refrained from running her hands through Fenrir's fur. His fur was prettier to look at up close – dark grey, almost black in some spots with a dark brown undertone. Somehow Fenrir's coat was softer than Remus and Elara's fur combined. Emma kept an eye on Fenrir as she climbed into her bed. She was about to get under her covers, but Fenrir hopped onto the mattress and dropped down next to her. Emma grimaced when she took a quick look around and noticed that Fenrir left muddy paw prints everywhere.

"I am not taking the blame if Sage sees you've left your paw prints everywhere," Emma said as she laid down facing Fenrir. "Thank you for somehow missing every single one of my blankets with your dirty paws. I don't think I would have been able to forgive you for that one."

The moment her head touched her pillow, Fenrir's nose was suddenly everywhere. It was in her hair, sniffing her neck, and spots that made Emma hit him to get him to stop. He had even less shame in his wolf form, and his strength was terrifying.

"No, Fenrir – your nose does _not_ belong there," Emma growled as his curious sniffing wandered south. She shoved hard at his head to keep him from wandering too far. "I will hex you out the window if you even think about it." His eyebrows lifted minutely in a show of canine curiosity, head cocking to the side, and Emma rolled her eyes. He was thinking about it.

"You know, for someone who calls me Rabbit, you have the twitchiest nose I have ever seen," Emma said, watching how Fenrir kept sniffing the air. She lifted a hand towards him, asking for silent permission to pet him, and he shuffled forward to let her. Emma couldn't get over how pretty he looked up close with his dark fur. She immediately went for the thick scruff of fur at the back of his neck and sighed in contentment of the feel underneath her fingers. His fur was unlike anything she had ever felt, and she bit back her grin when she scratched the spot behind his ears, and his eyes started to close.

"We are literally never going to speak of this," Emma said. Fenrir seemed inclined to agree.

Emma was too afraid to sleep around Fenrir as a wolf, but at some point, he had allowed her to use him as a pillow. He curled around her as she laid on her side, head resting near his shoulders. She wanted to keep a close eye on him and continued to run a hand through his fur, hoping it would convince him not to snap. Emma was under the delusion that as long as she provided head scratches, he was guaranteed not to bite her. She knew it had to be torturous for Fenrir to _not_ bite her or be out doing whatever he usually would during the full. If petting him somehow eased those feelings for him, it was a small price to pay for her safety.

Soleil was more than content with the situation and kept trying to convince Emma to sleep. She had a sneaking suspicion Fenrir was trying to do the same but didn't project visuals like Moony. It was the only reason why Emma felt Soleil would be on the quieter side. A yawn finally escaped her lips, and she groaned.

"I know what you're trying to do," Emma said, poking Fenrir's side. "And I'm afraid you might be winning." She closed her eyes with another yawn and frowned slightly. Emma wasn't sure if it was exhaustion, Soleil voicing her opinions, or Fenrir's subtle influence, but she felt like being open with her thoughts.

She had thought long and hard about Fenrir's question about what she wanted after they had it, and she realized there was only one real answer. It scared her to put out in the open, made her question everything about herself, but she didn't care to think about the consequences. Her morals went entirely out the window the moment she realized she trusted Fenrir – consequences didn't matter anymore.

"You know, there's one guaranteed way I would join you and the pack," she said. She felt Fenrir turn his head in her direction, and she cracked open an eye to look at him. "I thought more about the question you asked me – about what I want. I want happiness, but I realized there's only one way that'll happen, which means Jude needs to be out of the picture. If you were to kill Jude for me, I would join you with no questions asked. Hell, I might even fall in love with you for that one."

Fenrir's tail started to thump hard on the mattress, and he propped himself up on his front legs, cocking his head to the side. If Emma didn't remember who Fenrir actually was, she would have found the action endearing.

"I mean it, Fenrir. I'll do it," she said earnestly. She wasn't making a deal with him, not exactly, but if it were to somehow happen, well… Fenrir was tolerable. He seemed to have it in his head that she was joining him regardless; she at least wanted to benefit in some way. "I'll be yours – I'll do anything you want. I won't fight it, not too much at least." She yawned again, closing her eyes and readjusting herself. "But not tonight. You're warm, and I'm being selfish. Just thought I would give you something to consider."

She had clearly fallen asleep much faster than she thought she would. Emma had evidently managed to sleep through Fenrir transforming back into a man again, a feat that Remus had always found amazing. She let out a sharp gasp as she realized she was looking directly at Fenrir's naked torso. Emma squeezed her eyes shut and covered her eyes with her hands.

"My God, Fenrir, please tell me you have clothes on," Emma said, keeping her face covered.

"You are so bloody dramatic," Fenrir said with a slight growl. His voice was gravely and rough from his transformation. "I've got shorts on. Bloody hell, witch. You act as though you've never seen a naked man before."

Not quite sure that she believed Fenrir was wearing clothes, Emma peered cautiously between her fingers. She only pulled her hands away when she deemed that Fenrir was telling the truth, and he was indeed wearing shorts like he said. He was unnaturally quiet as he stared at her, and Emma shot him a look.

"What?" Emma snapped, sitting up in the bed and crossing her arms. "Do you have a problem?" Fenrir was studying her far too much for her liking, and Emma felt herself flush.

"Merlin, you have never actually seen a naked man, have you?"

Emma felt her face grow impossibly hotter. This was _not_ the conversation she wanted to be having right now at four or five in the morning. "I have," she insisted, but she knew Fenrir saw right through her when his eyebrow arched. "Fine, no, I haven't. Now what?" she snapped when a surprised smile crossed Fenrir's face.

"Jesus Christ, you're still a virgin, aren't you?"

There was a long moment of hesitation as Emma pulled her blanket up over her body, and she averted her gaze. She gave the smallest of nods she could manage.

"Hell has frozen over, and dear Lord, I have to admit that I genuinely fucked up," Fenrir said, straightening up and crossing his arms. " _Holy shit_."

"Why do you sound so surprised?" Emma asked with a frown.

"Because I am," Fenrir said. "With how pretty you are, I'm sure you could have the pick of any boy you would want. I find it hard to believe that you've never had sex before. Makes a lot of fucking sense now…"

"Well, believe it," Emma huffed, meeting Fenrir's gaze reluctantly. She shifted uncomfortably and pulled her blanket up higher, holding it just underneath her chin. Emma had avoided having any real mention of sex around Fenrir for so long, but that was unraveling quickly.

"Fuck," he breathed out, rubbing his jaw. "Had I realized…fuck, that's absolutely not a responsibility I want."

"And here I thought you would be jumping at the chance to be my first," Emma grumbled.

"Well," Fenrir said simply, and Emma's face twisted slightly, knowing exactly what that one word was meant to imply. "No, I would've been pissed about it later. I want to be able to _enjoy you_ , not completely ruin you. I've had my fair share of virgins; I'm not interested in that, especially not with you." Fenrir released a long breath, scratching his head with his hand in an entirely dog-like fashion. "What's the problem? Are you afraid?"

"I would much rather have you bite me than have this conversation with you," Emma said with a growl.

"And I'm much more fascinated in figuring out what your issue is," Fenrir said. "Do you not like men at all? I know about your, uh, history with your little friend…"

"If I said I was a lesbian, would that help my case?" Emma asked hopefully.

"You definitely like men, then," Fenrir snorted. "Could have been a little less subtle about it, Rabbit. You're bisexual?"

"You're aware that it's very early, and any sane person, especially a werewolf like you who just transformed, should be wanting to sleep right now?"

"I'm very curious to understand this situation. I can sleep when I have my answers."

Emma ran her hands over her face, shaking her head. "Yes, I'm bisexual. No, I'm not scared," Emma said. "It's not for lack of trying, not exactly. Though Dad being around the last year didn't help with that. Nobody really wants to have sex with you when you're the professor's daughter lest they get on his bad side and earn terrible marks because of it. Now that I know I'm related to at least half of my class and the Prophet's published all that nonsense, I highly doubt my prospects are high."

"But you have a boyfriend…"

Emma didn't recall telling Fenrir that she had a boyfriend and gave him a questioning look. "Who I'm related to somewhere in the Black family tree," Emma pointed out. "I don't know what to do with that just yet."

Fenrir nodded, almost to himself, as he sat down on the edge of Emma's mattress. "No wonder you're so high strung," he said almost off-handedly. "You've never had a good lay before." He looked thoughtful for a moment and twisted himself to look at Emma, giving her a fascinated look. "You haven't even had a chance to get yourself off this entire summer, have you? You haven't had a real moment alone, and I know your house is bloody tiny."

"Fenrir, please stop," Emma said, blushing furiously. Their entire conversation was way worse than any conversation she had with Remus. The last thing she wanted was Fenrir knowing her lack of sexual history.

"You know," Fenrir said slowly as he turned himself completely and crawled over to Emma. A wolfish grin crossed his face as he pushed Emma back against her pillows so he could climb over the top of her. She was frozen underneath Fenrir, nervously trying to anticipate what he would do. "I could help with that," he said.

"Fenrir," Emma said sharply. " _No_."

Fenrir began to laugh, rolling off Emma. "Holy shit, that was too easy – I've never seen you turn that particular shade of red before," he chuckled. "I imagine you haven't even experimented with a boy your age, have you?" Emma's embarrassed flush was telling, and Fenrir swore under his breath. "Well, _that's_ going to have to change sometime soon. I was not expecting to learn that. Do yourself a favor and find yourself a muggle-born if you're so worried about crossing family lines. Don't deprive yourself of one of life's simplest pleasures. After all, the mating part is the best part of having a mate."

"Oh, yes, getting advice from someone who probably fucks anything that moves is exactly what I would like to right now," Emma growled. "Are you done?"

"Ah, but that would mean I've had someone to fuck this entire time."

"Haven't you? You're _Fenrir Greyback_."

"I am, but you also forget before I was a werewolf, I was a pure-blood wizard," Fenrir said.

"Which means what? I don't understand what that's even supposed to mean."

"It means that you have been my only focus for the past decade."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Which means that I want _you_. And because I had to make sure that you were raised well where you were, my focus was placed elsewhere. I haven't been…intimate…with someone in years."

Emma searched Fenrir's face, beyond positive that he wasn't serious. He had a _reputation_ , one that had settled down slightly over the years, but that didn't change who he was. There was no way that she could see him being abstinent for any reason whatsoever.

"You're _Fenrir Greyback_ ," Emma repeated slowly as if saying his name slow would somehow change things. "You are known as the most savage werewolf of all time, and you are going to sit here and lie to me and tell me that you haven't had _sex_ in the past decade? Besides, Dad said that werewolves aren't even monogamous."

"Doesn't mean that we can't be," Fenrir said pointedly. "It's just been me, myself –"

"Fenrir, do not finish that sentence because I don't need to know," Emma said quickly, taking a steadying breath. "Are you done?"

"Not quite," he replied, looking too amused with himself. "I need you to do something for me."

"I'm not doing anything for you, Fenrir," Emma said, crossing her arms.

"You will," Fenrir said. "I need you to make a bet at the World Cup for me."

"You want me to make a bet for you?"

"One of the other packs will be attending the match tomorrow," Fenrir said slowly, observing Emma closely to gauge her reaction.

"You want me to make a bet with another pack?"

"Another alpha."

Emma didn't like the sound of that at all. She shook her head in response. The idea of having to deal with another pack leader was terrifying to her.

"You'll be fine," Fenrir said, nodding to the ring on her finger. "They won't touch you – they'll know you're mine."

Another frown crossed Emma's face, and she sighed. "You promise I'll be fine?"

"Just because you don't transform yet, it doesn't make you any less a wolf. In fact, you smell far more like a wolf than I thought you would," Fenrir replied. "You have my word that you will be safe. No harm will come to you amongst your peers, especially not while mine."

That was as good of a promise as Emma would ever get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Fenrir likes to take things from zero to a hundred in no time at all. Starting to get a read on him yet? No? Yes? Any theories as to what exactly changed with Fenrir towards Emma? Curious to know what people have to say, and I'd love to hear it over on Discord!
> 
> To be honest, Fenrir writes himself and he surprises me sometimes. I usually go through several drafts of chapters, and this one just went from progressively "kinda Fenrir" to "Oh." This was absolutely one of those, "Oh, yes, this is Fenrir" chapters. Up until this point, he's existed, but I think this is the first time I've really started to flesh him out outside of the obvious. He's fascinating, and I hate myself for actually liking Fenrir. Ick.
> 
> And what about Emma? DUN DUN DUNNNN. This child...I love her dearly, but, in wizarding fashion, Merlin's saggy tits. That's all I'm going to say.
> 
> **come find me on:**   
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> 


	29. Werewolf Territory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **tw:** Jude warning. Oh the joy. How did we go from a Fenrir warning to Jude? *sigh*

Emma was positively buzzing with excitement over going to the World Cup. She was apprehensive about attending, knowing what Fenrir wanted her to do, but she was excited.

It was a small miracle that she could sleep in, especially after the conversation Fenrir insisted on having with her. She thought he was going to insist on pestering her more about it, but even the most savage werewolf of all time eventually felt the after-effects of the moon. Luckily, she fell asleep quickly immediately after and woke up with a delight that she hadn't felt in ages.

She was woken up at half-past eleven by Persephone, who kept casting furtive glances over at Fenrir, seemingly asleep. Emma thought that Fenrir _actually_ managed to sleep through something for one long moment, but then he growled. Emma and Persephone let out matching squawks of surprise, and Fenrir wore a lopsided grin. Fenrir was an absolute terror, and Emma hated that his little joke was funny, even just a little bit.

Emma had no idea how Fenrir never looked affected by the moon, especially when she looked so tragic. Fenrir looked tired, there was no doubt about that, but he looked nothing like how Emma did. If it weren't for very carefully applied makeup, Emma knew she would have looked very ill and very scary to anyone at the World Cup. She _still_ couldn't believe that she was going at all!

She stared at herself in the mirror for a while in the bathroom mirror. She was torn between hating herself for her scars and then finding a mild appreciation for how she looked. She was going to be at war with herself for a very long time, but Luna's words crept into her mind, and she felt a little better. Emma had absolutely been on a very long adventure. While it seemed manageable as she made her way back into the world, she couldn't wait for it to be over. Next week her adventure would reach a stalling point as she returned to Hogwarts. It felt like the summer was at least twenty years long, and she was ready for it to be over.

Emma felt very much like a child with a very attentive parent. Remus was equally as careful, but Fenrir was decidedly more vigilant. Emma had to suppress her groan as she realized that Remus wouldn't be any better the moment she could return home long-term. She felt odd listening to Fenrir asking Sage questions about what the plans were for the night. Sage had decided not to attend the match and gave Emma her ticket, though Fenrir had managed to procure one for her. Since Ellis was working as part of the security detail, the children would be heading to the venue themselves. They all watched curiously when Sage, to be polite, mentioned that Fenrir should go since he had a ticket. His laugh was loud and echoing.

"If I dared set foot anywhere near the camps, they would try to kill me on site," Fenrir said. "Your husband might be working right now and would know better, but I'll pass." He ran an affectionate hand down the back of Emma's head, and she felt her face heat up. "I think it's about time that Emma has fun. She, ah, could do with a release…from the stress of her holiday."

Emma's face grew even hotter, and she was so grateful that no one questioned why she had turned so red. Emma turned her head slowly to look at Fenrir, a scowl on her face, but he only grinned. She decided he wasn't as funny as he thought he was. His humor was just as terrible as Remus's.

"Er, right. Emma, have you ever taken a Portkey?" Sage asked, looking between Emma and Fenrir curiously. Emma knew how odd things seemed considering their history, and she could only imagine what they all thought. Since she stayed in her room, no one knew what was going on.

Emma slowly turned back to Sage. "I've taken one," she said.

"Excellent," Sage said brightly. "The four of you will need to head out in twenty minutes to catch your Portkey. It's out by the coast, and it's best if you're early. You lot should all go pack your things if you haven't already – remember, it's just for one night." The sheepish grins on Caspian and Elijah's face said they had a lot to do.

"Come on," Fenrir said, gently gripping Emma underneath her elbow to pull her up from her chair. "I want to talk to you and want to make sure you're actually packed."

Emma slowly followed Fenrir back through the house. She still hadn't had a chance to wander, and she no longer felt the need to. Fenrir was with her at almost all times of the day, and if she was hoping to look for answers to her questions, it was pointless. For the most part, Fenrir was an open book for her. Almost all of the other things he wasn't answering she could find out on her own at Hogwarts. She had a _very_ long list of things to research.

Fenrir was quick to shove a cigarette in his mouth the moment they stepped back into her room – their room? It might as well be their room since Fenrir didn't leave, and he wasn't planning on leaving her again.

Emma could admit that their arrangement wasn't terrible; they had their own spaces. The room was more than large enough, and they had established silent boundaries. She had the entire area surrounding the bed, he took the sofa and the small table nearby, and they shared the large table for meals and the desk. The armchair was hers when she wanted it, and when she felt like being annoying, she joined him on the sofa. She tried to keep her intrusions to when he was playing guitar as he seemed less likely to comment on it, and that's how Emma liked it. Her goal was to survive and if aligning herself temporarily with Fenrir was how she had to do it, then she would do it. Remus had reluctantly admitted that it was the best course of action, but he was more than itching to have her home. She wanted nothing more.

He grabbed Emma's bag, set it on top of the bed, and began to go through it. Fenrir let out a pleased grunt, which was no small feat considering how critical he could be. He expected perfection from her, and Emma had nothing better to do than try to meet that expectation. She wasn't stupid enough to believe that Fenrir's subtle and not-so-subtle comments weren't to try and continue what he started with her when she was younger.

"You've learned," Fenrir said as he walked over to the table near the sofa. He hauled his bag off the floor and pulled out two pouches. "I'm proud of you."

"Well, considering you forced me to repack no less than five times, it was hard not to learn," Emma huffed. It was single-handedly one of the most annoying things he had ever had her do. What started as a near-idle conversation on essentials she should always carry with her turned into a lesson on how to pack her things properly. Fenrir was appalled to hear how she packed her trunk and nearly went to look at what was left in her trunk until she mentioned Remus helped her pack. He shot her an annoyed look, crossed his arms, and commented about how he was considering talking to Remus about what he was teaching her. Emma could only roll her eyes. That wouldn't go well at all if it came to be.

Fenrir looked at her with an arched eyebrow, his default look for his lack of amusement with her. "You were terrible, and if you can't get to the things you need, then why bother packing at all?"

"It's better to have everything regardless of how it's packed," Emma said cheerily. "If it fits in the bag, then it's perfect packing as far as I'm concerned."

Fenrir shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking in a deep breath. Emma was always silently pleased with herself when she annoyed Fenrir. It was one of her favorite games to see just how far she could push him just because she could.

"These are for you," he said when he finally calmed enough, holding up the pouches.

"You have two pouches there," Emma said.

"No shit," Fenrir said, motioning for Emma to hold her hand out. He dropped one of the pouches in her hand, and Emma was alarmed at the weight of it in her hand. "The tent you'll need to go to is on the west side of the campground, field 7. It's a dark green tent, and you are to ask for Raoul," Fenrir explained.

"And how do I know it's the right dark green tent? I've seen enough tents in the store to know that it's a common color."

"Trust me, you'll know."

Emma cast Fenrir a dubious look as she weighed the bag in her hand. It was _heavy,_ and she was almost curious to see just how much was in the pouch. Fenrir was staring at her intently just as he always did, and Emma decided it was better to not know. She tucked the pouch deep into her bag where she hoped Fenrir wouldn't complain about it.

"And what exactly do I do after I ask for Raoul?" she asked.

"Just tell him that I want all of the gold on Ireland tonight. He'll know what to do from there," Fenrir said gruffly. He motioned for Emma to hold her hand out again, and she let out a dramatic sigh. Fenrir pinned her with a hard stare, and Emma quickly adjusted her attitude as best as she could. _Oops_. "And this is for you," he said, dropping the pouch in her hand, "but I'm reconsidering it since you're being a brat today."

"Oh, excuse me for being _happy_ today," Emma said, weighing the second pouch in her hand. It was surprisingly hefty, though nowhere near as heavy as the first. "For me? How much do I get to spend? It's unnecessary…"

"It's all yours," Fenrir said, closing Emma's fingers over the pouch. "I'm aware that I haven't help to make your summer any easier. I'm more than aware that you don't need the gold, but until I can figure out what to do for you, consider it an apology. The first of many."

Emma's eyes narrowed slightly as she searched Fenrir's face. When she didn't find any signs of deception, she gave a small nod. Fenrir didn't apologize often, he was unapologetic in most things, but they had reached an understanding at some point.

"Thank you," she said, tucking the pouch into her bag with the rest of her things. "Anything else I need to bring?" Fenrir waved Emma off, and she snorted, closing her bag. "I guess I should head back down."

Fenrir gave a slight nod before dropping both of his hands on her shoulders. "Whatever you do, do not let your bag out of your sight. Do not take off my ring – you already know that I'll know if you do," Fenrir said pointedly, causing Emma's face to heat up. She really needed to figure out what exactly the ring was meant to do. "If Jude's sorry arse still decided to show up, do _not_ let him push you around. He's a coward for avoiding me, and he's an even bigger coward for attacking you with your back turned."

"And here I thought that would be one of your favorite things to do," Emma commented.

"It's dishonorable," Fenrir grunted. "With me, you'll always see it coming. Even if there's no opportunity for your opponent to strike back, it's a courtesy."

Emma had to think hard about that for a moment – was that actually true? She supposed it was as everything he had done, she had more or less seen coming. He made it very apparent what he was about to do at all times; there were very few surprises with Fenrir.

"Then I suppose I should apologize," Emma muttered.

"No need. You warned me; I didn't listen."

"No, you didn't," Emma agreed. "I did, in fact, warn you."

"It was magnificent. I was very proud of you that day," Fenrir chuckled, leaning down to kiss the top of Emma's head. He reached over to grab Emma's bag and slipped the strap over her shoulder. "Go. Enjoy yourself. I'm sure you're sick of seeing me."

"I'm sure the feeling's mutual," Emma said, giving Fenrir a cheeky grin. She bent down to lift Figaro into a quick hug. "Don't let Fenrir keep feeding you too many treats," she said, holding the kitten up in front of her. Emma couldn't believe just how much Figaro had grown in the past month, and she felt like an overly proud mother. "He's going to make you fat."

"Oh, please," Fenrir scoffed, taking Figaro from Emma's hands. "She's still growing."

"Fenrir Greyback – the cat expert," Emma said, shaking her head. "Can't wait until the Prophet gets ahold of that one. I swear, I'll be rich because of you."

Fenrir waved her off, and Emma burst into laughter. She had been so annoyed that Figaro liked Fenrir so much, but to find him so besotted by the black ball of fur was hysterical. He was fascinated that Figaro liked werewolves and treated her sweetly. Emma hated having to battle for Figaro's affection, but she found it funny to see Fenrir turn into a completely different person with the cat.

"Right," Emma said, snickering as Fenrir started cooing at Figaro. "See you tomorrow, Fenrir."

Emma was the last one to make it to the entryway. With quick hugs and kisses from Sage, they started their walk to the coast. Caspian and Elijah were walking ahead, singing some song they heard on the Wizarding Wireless. Persephone walked next to Emma, shaking her head. When they were far enough away from the house, Persephone let out a long breath.

"God, we thought you were going to be dead. Mum was going completely spare with the idea of you being with Fenrir," Persephone said as they walked down the length of stairs to the beach. "Spending the night with him as a wolf willingly? That was suicidal."

"But didn't you know? I'm the _werewolf whisperer_ ," Emma said dryly. "Honestly, he was like a puppy. Besides, he wouldn't have killed me, so it wouldn't be suicidal."

"He could have turned you, though," Persephone said. "That's not any better."

"He could have," Emma agreed. "But he didn't. I think I've got him convinced to not try until next summer, so I've got another ten months of being whatever I am. Hopefully."

Persephone studied Emma closely, worrying her lip. "It's Fenrir, though, Emma," she said. "He shouldn't be trusted."

That gave Emma pause, and she returned Persephone's searching gaze. "Well, I've had to put my trust somewhere," she said quietly. "He's one of the only people who seem willing to keep Jude away from me. I'd be stupid not to trust that he won't keep me safe from at least that much, especially after Jude attacked me."

"Jude attacked you?" Persephone squeaked out. "When?"

"When I was making the Wolfsbane Potion on Saturday," Emma said. "I think he knocked over one of the potion's bottles. I turned to stop it out of reflex, and he hit me with the Cruciatus like he used to when I was smaller…shattered everything I held. Even worse, ruined the batch of Wolfsbane I made."

"But he said…"

Emma skidded to a halt, and Persephone froze, looking at Emma with wide eyes. Persephone suddenly looked nervous, and Emma's blood ran cold, and her stomach dropped.

"Who said what?" Emma asked slowly, staring hard at Persephone. Persephone had told her multiple times that she didn't want to be a part of whatever was happening, but was that a lie?

"It's…it's nothing," Persephone quickly. She giggled nervously and gulped. "P-perhaps I j-just heard wrong. Come on, we'll miss our Portkey."

It didn't seem like nothing, and Emma felt sick. Every time Fenrir had given her a warning about Persephone, she thought he was just paranoid. It wasn't entirely unlike Fenrir to be always on alert, attempting to perceive threats that weren't there just yet. Sometimes it felt as though Fenrir was just pitting Persephone and her against each other just to cause issues. There was no way that Fenrir was genuine, but Persephone never clammed up like she just did either. What was she missing, and why wasn't Fenrir just telling her if he knew? Emma pushed the thought aside for the moment – she wanted to enjoy her day. Everything else could wait.

The four teenagers walked along the beach until they found a lone sand pail and shovel that they were meant to use.

"Are we sure that this is the right one?" Emma asked, taking a look around the beach to make sure there weren't any other buckets. She didn't see any other buckets anywhere, but it seemed silly to use such an object. Anyone could pick it up.

"I mean, mum said to look for a sand pail," Persephone said, looking around.

"Should be the one, then," Elijah said. "Have you lot taken a Portkey before? We know Emma has."

"I have," Emma shuddered. "Really not looking forward to it again."

Caspian looked down at his watch with a sigh. "Well, not much time to discuss it," he said, putting a hand on the edge of the bucket. "Might as well all be ready now." One by one, they held onto the edge of the bucket, waiting in anticipation.

"You know, I will say that this is a lot better than the hairbrush Dad and I had to use last we took a Portkey," Emma said. "We had to argue over who got the bristle end before trying to figure out how to share the handle."

"Do you think one of us should take the handle?" Caspian asked thoughtfully.

"No!" Emma and Elijah shouted.

"Not unless you want to be flung into oblivion," Elijah said sharply. "The thing looks about ready to break apart as is."

Emma was about to say something but didn't have the opportunity as the Portkey activated. She clenched her eyes shut as she felt her stomach do a flip as they moved through a kaleidoscope of colors. Their shoulders all hit each other as they traveled through the thick vortex of wind, and then suddenly, all four of them finally touched solid ground. Elijah stumbled into Caspian, who fell over into Emma. Then all four of them were in a pile of giggles on the ground as Emma fell over onto Persephone.

"Quarter to two from Traeth Porth Wen," said a voice as they slowly disentangled themselves from the ground.

They were greeted by two wizards, one holding a watch and the other a roll of parchment and a Quill.

"'Lo," Persephone said brightly.

The one wizard, a portly man in an ill-fitting tweed suit studied each of them in turn. His eyes lingered on Emma for a long moment, and she quickly looked away. She suddenly felt as though she understood precisely what Harry was talking about when people looked for his scar.

"Ellis's, eh?" said the wizard, finally settling on Caspian and Persephone.

"Yes, sir," Persephone answered.

The wizard hummed in response, taking another look at the four. "Right, Moon – you're with the Malfoys," he said, reaching into his suit to pull out a paper. "Head past the building. It's about a half-mile out from here. Follow the line on the map. Your father should be just finishing up his shift."

"Perfect, thank you," Caspian said, snatching the map from Persephone's hand, grabbing Elijah's shirt, and running ahead.

Emma swallowed hard and followed slowly. She had no idea that they were going to be with _the Malfoys_. Emma didn't think that Sage even knew because she didn't bring it up when Fenrir had asked.

"What's wrong with you?" Persephone asked, practically skipping as they walked through the field they were in.

"I didn't know we were going to be with the Malfoys," Emma said. "It was a terrible idea for me to come."

"Oh," Persephone said slowly. She then burst into a fit of giggles. "Oh, God. I just realized how much worse it is now that you've snogged Draco."

"To be fair, we weren't cousins…not yet," Emma huffed, crossing her arms. "Fenrir's already made fun of me for it. I don't need to hear it from you, too."

"Good thing we're so far out on the family tree that it doesn't matter," Persephone said, stopping to give Emma a kiss on the cheek. "Same with you and George, you know."

Emma sighed, scrubbing her hands down her face. "I'm aware."

"Have you decided what to do about that? Really it's not a big deal. It's not like you and Draco," Persephone sing-songed.

"Please stop bringing up Draco!" Emma shouted, covering her face as they walked. " _I know_. I still don't quite know what to do. I like George…a lot."

"So, then just go for it. No one ever said you had to marry him," Persephone pointed out happily. She grabbed onto Emma's hand and wiggled her eyebrows. "And if you change your mind, there can always be you and me again. We had fun, right?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Please, after dealing with Fenrir this morning, I think I'm officially swearing off any sexual activity, thank you."

Persephone froze slightly. "Did you two…Emma?" Persephone looked Emma up and down, her eyes widening. Emma looked at Persephone in confusion before bursting into laughter and doubling over from laughing so hard.

"Oh, God, no!" Emma laughed, clutching hard to her stomach. "Oh, Merlin's beard that's absolutely brilliant. I didn't even think about what I said." She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve, still giggling. "No, he was asking me why I haven't had sex before, and it's a conversation that I really have no desire to relive. If you thought Dad's sex talk was bad, it's much worse with Fenrir, and I wish it on absolutely no one."

"Oh, thank Merlin," Persephone said. "Was worried that he somehow convinced you it was a good idea."

Emma could only continue to laugh as they walked. That would never happen.

The closer they got to the campsites, the more Emma found herself disappointed. Most of the tents appeared normal. A few had chimney stacks, others had weathervanes, but then they walked past a tent that changed colors. Emma couldn't help but smile widely at it. It was brilliant, and the old witch sitting outside it gave her a beaming smile.

"Well, this is it," Caspian said, standing outside of a light grey tent. There was a stake outside of the tent that read Malfoy/Moon. It seemed like such a small tent, and Emma frowned.

"How are we all meant to fit? There's four of us, and at least three Malfoys," Emma said. "That's not including your dad."

"Well, we're about to find out," Persephone said. She shrugged and opened the flap to the tent and stepped through. Caspian followed next, then Elijah and Emma followed next. She let out an awed gasp of surprise.

Had she walked into a mansion or a tent? Emma nearly walked back outside just to make sure she hadn't teleported somewhere. There was _no way_ that they entered a tent that could possibly be as ornate as the one they were in. It was like a small mansion inside the tent, and she didn't understand why a tent would need to have a foyer. It was extravagant and clearly meant to be a status symbol, but it was too much. No one would ever know from the outside unless there was a secret tell that she had missed. Emma half expected to see the famed albino peacocks of Malfoy manor walking about being chased by the Crup puppies Draco so loved.

A tall woman with blonde hair suddenly appeared, and a polite smile crossed her face.

"There you all are," she said gently. "We were wondering where you all were." She took a look at each of them in turn, and just like most others, she stopped on Emma. Rather than looking at her with disgust, there was something there that Emma couldn't read. That was new, but it still made her duck her head.

"Ah, the children have arrived," drawled a man's voice.

Emma looked up to find an equally blond man and then spotted Draco following closely behind. _Oh_. These were Draco's parents, and as Emma looked between the three Malfoys, she could see how Draco looked like them. Lucius Malfoy looked just as smug as she thought he would, but Narcissa looked sweet. Emma had always wondered who Draco looked most like, but he had a mix of both of his parents.

"We've never met you before," Lucius said, his eyes finding Emma immediately out of the group. "And who exactly are you?"

That was an idiotic question, and they both knew it. The look on Lucius's face told her that he knew exactly who she was, and she glanced over at Draco, who promptly looked away. Why Emma thought Draco would bother helping her out, she had no idea.

"I'm –"

An arm slipped around her shoulders, and Emma froze. "This is my daughter Emelyn, Lucius. I thought she'd be too ill to attend the match, so I didn't think to mention her."

The tension in the tent could be cut with a knife, and Emma's stomach churned with her nerves. _How dare he_.

"Don't touch me," Emma snarled, trying to pull herself away from Jude. Just like he had done at the Ministry, his fingers dug into the bite on her shoulder, and her knees started to buckle with the pain. "I am _not_ your daughter," Emma growled out through grit teeth.

"She's confused," Jude said with a sigh, tightening his hold and digging more into her bite. "She's been like this since the Ministry. It's such a shame, really."

"Ah, I can imagine that she's been confused," Lucius agreed. "However she looks a lot like –"

"Like Margaret? I know," Jude said with a sigh. "Such a shame about what happened to her. If only I could have done something to stop it."

Emma swore she saw red the moment Jude started to talk about Margaret. There was something incredibly cruel about him pretending he actually cared about either of them. Even if he had once cared for her mother, Emma knew that Jude had something to do with Margaret's death. What exactly he did, Emma had no idea, but she knew.

Very rarely did Emma want to give in to Soleil's angry snarls and snapping teeth, but she was going to be damned if she didn't. She didn't care what the Malfoys thought about her, and she certainly didn't care about what Jude thought. With Fenrir's words sitting in the back of her mind, Emma finally decided to take the chance to fight back. Jude might have gotten his win over the weekend, but Emma was determined to make sure that was the only one he ever had.

With a growl, Emma stomped down hard on Jude's foot. A small smile crossed her face as she slipped out from underneath his arm. She was about ready to run back out of the tent, but Jude's hand latched hard to the bite on her arm. Emma didn't even have a moment to cry out from the jolt of pain in her arm as Jude slapped her hard across the face.

The crack of Jude's hand connecting with Emma's cheek was almost deafening as the entire tent fell silent. Narcissa and Persephone might have gasped, but all Emma could hear was the ringing in her ears. Angry tears filled Emma's eyes, and she allowed herself a single sniffle as she composed herself. She tasted copper and darted her tongue out between her lips, and suppressed a whimper as she realized the scar on her lip had split. Emma didn't dare touch her face, didn't look at anyone else. She made her face completely blank and straightened herself out to look at Jude. Emma wished she had claws because she wanted to rake her nails into his face to rip his smirk off his face.

"Oops," Jude said with a slight shrug, rubbing his hand. "Guess you look like your mother after all. Guess you were right to bring up that little concern, pet."

Emma bit the inside of her cheek to keep her lips from curling into a sneer. She had never felt so much hatred in her life. Somehow Jude slapping her felt like a much larger offense than him using the Cruciatus on her. If Fenrir didn't kill Jude for her, then she was determined to do it herself. How she was going to manage to do that, she had no idea, but she would figure it out just like everything else.

In the commotion, no one seemed to notice that Ellis had entered the room. He cleared his throat, and everyone turned to look up at him. Ellis stood awkwardly next to Lucius, his hands in his pockets.

"Persephone, why don't you take Caspian, Elijah, and Emma out," Ellis suggested, casting a side-long glance over at Jude. "Just be back for dinner."

"Draco, why don't you join your…friends," Lucius said slowly. Lucius kept his gaze fixed on Emma for a moment before he pushed Draco towards everyone. "Show them where they'll be staying, and perhaps go and enjoy the festivities."

Emma didn't care to know where they were staying and stormed out of the tent. She didn't care where she stayed the night, but she wasn't staying with _them_. Even if she had to sleep outside somewhere, she would. A low growl rolled up Emma's throat as she realized exactly why Fenrir had her pack her bag the way she did. He had anticipated something would go wrong and made sure she would at least be mildly comfortable overnight if she couldn't stay. As long as Emma could find someone, she would be able to get back to the house, and it didn't matter who she left with. That was nice, she supposed.

She suddenly remembered that there was something that she needed to do. Since she had nowhere else to be, she might as well complete the task Fenrir gave her.

Emma approached the friendliest looking person she could find, a younger-looking couple who were sitting outside a tent.

"I'm so sorry to bother you," Emma said apologetically, trying to ignore the looks they gave her. Remembering her lip, Emma lifted her sleeve to cover it, hoping it felt worse than I looked. "I'm afraid I've lost my map, and I'm trying to get back to my tent. Do you have one that I could have?" A complete lie, but Emma didn't care, and the tears still in her eyes must have sold her story.

"Oh, you poor thing, the campground is huge," the witch said, slapping the arm of the man next to her. "Go in the tent and make her a copy of the map!" He was quick on his feet, and the witch stood, her expression sympathetic. Her lips pursed slightly as she looked at Emma, looking as though she was debating with herself as she took in Emma's scars. "You're the girl that was attacked by the werewolf, aren't you? The one with the werewolf father?"

Emma nearly rolled her eyes – she didn't want pity from people for that, but she supposed it would help her case. She was sure she would do anything to try and fly under the radar. Might as well keep up the act.

"I am," she sniffed, ducking her head. "And-and even though it wasn't D-dad who d-did it, n-no one will let me go h-home. So n-now they're k-keeping me w-with…" she trailed off, rubbing the spot where Jude slapped her, secretly hoping it was still red.

The witch let out a soft gasp as she followed Emma's hand. "Oh…oh no. Did someone hit you?" she asked, reaching out for Emma's free hand and then stopping as if she thought better of it. The woman took another look and her eyes settled on the scar that cut through Emma's lip with a soft gasp.

"Y-yes," Emma whimpered. "M-my s-step father insists that he's my f-father! He hits me, a-and I c-can't tell anyone, b-because no one c-c-cares!" She made sure that her voice broke on a dry sob, and she curled in on herself. Emma was considering the idea of finding a magical theater school again; she was too good at this.

"Oh, you poor thing," the witch said. "Is it because you're a werewolf?"

"I'm n-not a w-werewolf!" Emma cried. "I d-don't even transform! I was just attacked by a different one, and my father would never hurt me."

The witch fell quiet, studying Emma, searching for any signs that Emma could have possibly transformed. Emma knew it was hard to argue with her when she was out just hours after the full moon.

Logically, most people wouldn't know what a werewolf would act like after a transformation and assumed the worst. Most wouldn't know that Remus just wanted to go to sleep right away, welcoming a cuddle before drifting off for as long as he could. Not many would know that Elara preferred to take a nice long bath, often having a short kip amongst the bubbles before going to bed. Emma was sure no one outside of Fenrir's pack knew that he still somehow had energy immediately after and could probably stay up for several hours more.

"I'm so sorry," the witch said, brown eyes searching Emma's as she passed the copied map over to her. "I…I don't know what I can do, but that's…that's not right."

"You really don't transform?" the man asked, looking at Emma curiously.

"No, never," Emma sniffed, thanking the witch profusely for the map. "The werewolf who attacked me wasn't transformed at the time. He…he just wanted to attack me to make a point." Emma gave a small shrug with a watery smile and thanked the couple again before turning to head on her way. She momentarily froze seeing that Persephone and Draco were watching her, but Emma pushed past them.

"Emma!" Persephone shouted, running after Emma. "Where are you going?"

Emma wiped at her eyes with her sleeve, straightening up and walking faster with purpose as she looked at the map. "I've got something I need to do," she explained.

"That was impressive, Lupin," Draco drawled. "Didn't know you had that in you. Did Daddy teach you that one, or did you learn that one on your own?"

"What do you need to do?" Persephone questioned.

"Doesn't concern either of you," Emma said, stopping where she was to really look at the map. She turned it around, her tongue poking out between her teeth as she tried to orient herself. "As for my little act, that one was all courtesy of Fenrir."

"I meant the one back in the tent," Draco said, his eyebrow arching.

"Oh," Emma laughed. She gave a slight shrug with one shoulder as she turned the map back over. She was definitely going in the right direction. "Also Fenrir, actually. Told me not to let Jude push me around before leaving, so I decided to listen to him for once."

"Fenrir? You don't mean Greyback, do you?"

"She does," Persephone sighed. "He's, er…been living at my house since Emma arrived."

"Not my fault that Jude's a cunt," Emma said. "If he would have kept his nose out of our business, I would be home with Dad right now. Also, I'd really appreciate you don't say his name too loudly. Don't think it would be a good idea to scream it half-way across the camp. Call him…call him Puppy because he was like a puppy last night."

Draco made a choking noise, and Emma started to giggle and started to walk in the direction she was headed.

"She spent the night with…Puppy…while he was transformed," Persephone explained, pulling Draco along. "Thought she was going to be dead by the morning."

"He didn't even try to nip at me," Emma said. "Actually, that's a lie. He _did_ try to nip at me. He wasn't too pleased when I tried to shove him off the bed because he was annoying."

"You can't be serious," Draco said. "He slept in the same bed as you?"

"Well, he's like a dog, so it was fine," Emma shrugged. "Dad and I did it all the time while at school. It's normal for us."

"But you're not –"

"I'm enough of one. I smell like one; it's relatively safe for me to be around wolves while transformed, even without the Wolfsbane – I think. Though, I wouldn't want to see how Fenrir would be without the potion," Emma said, groaning as several heads turned as they passed their tent. "Ah, fuck, I said his name. Oh, well."

"You still haven't said where you're going," Persephone said in exasperation.

"If you _must_ know, I'm doing him a favor, I guess," Emma said, tilting her head from side to side as she thought about it. "Yeah, I suppose it's a favor because he's mostly kept me from being killed by Jude."

"So he's a bodyguard?" Draco questioned.

"Best way to put it, really. I'm sure there's some super twisty nonsense going on, but I will take the assistance," Emma sighed. "Trust me, a month ago, I never would have said I can tolerate being around him. He hasn't been terrible the past week, honestly. Overbearing, bit pushy, but compared to how he's been in the past, I'll take it."

"What exactly are you doing for him?" Persephone asked, sounding even more exasperated than before.

"Meeting, er…another one of our kind to make a bet for tonight," Emma said. "You two might as well just leave. I'll be fine."

"Emma, you don't even know them! What if they hurt you?"

"Ah, but you forget that we got engaged the other night –" Draco made another choking noise as Emma lifted her left hand to show the ring still on her finger "– I'm kidding, Draco. It was a joke I made a few days ago that I still find hysterical. Anyway, I'm not going back to your tent, so I'll take my chances. Maybe I'll be lucky and have somewhere else to stay."

"What do you mean? You have to come back to the tent."

Emma stopped where she was and whipped around, flinching slightly as Draco and Persephone skidded to halts just in front of her. "No, I don't," Emma said. She touched her lip with her finger to check that it had stopped bleeding and then looked between Persephone and Draco. "I'm not going to be around Jude more than I need to. The Ministry said I was only meant to be with Jude this past weekend, and he might have left, but he's been around every other day. I just want to get through the rest of this week, so I can go home to Dad this weekend. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"We're coming with you," Persephone said, cutting Draco off before he could protest.

"All right," Emma said, turning back around to continue. "Clearly, I can't convince you that I'll be fine, so come along, I guess."

The further they went towards the outskirts of the camp, the quieter it became. The moment they stepped into the correct field, Emma needed to take a moment to take a breath, her stomach roiling. Now that she had time to calm down, her nerves were kicking in. With the lack of people around outside despite the number of tents, Emma grew even more nervous. The tents weren't as cramped together here. The tents were spaced out, but why was there no one around? Why was no one out? The entire campground was devoted to witches and wizards for the World Cup, but these tents didn't seem to belong to anyone magical.

Emma couldn't pinpoint anything inherently wrong with where they were headed. The tents looked just like all of the others, possibly more Muggle than the others. Nothing seemed out of place, but then Emma realized that she wasn't paying attention to Soleil who was becoming more excited as they continued on.

 _Friendsfriendsfriends_ , Soleil kept shrieking, leaving Emma feeling uneasy.

Friends? The very word put Emma's senses on alert, and more than once, she wished that she had been lucky enough to have half of a werewolf's senses. She had been unfortunate enough to get all of the bad symptoms and inherited none of the good. Curse her terrible genetics; she was the worst half-werewolf ever, too short and too un-werewolfy enough. She couldn't hear better, couldn't smell better, couldn't see better; she was decidedly human in that respect.

The hairs on the back of her neck began to raise, and she walked a little slower as Soleil began barking happily in her mind. Emma took a really close look around and began to notice that they were being watched, heads popping out of tents, eyes wary and unsure. So many of the curious tent owners looked exhausted. Draco was first to point out that someone had a bite mark on their arm, just like the one half-concealed by her rolled-up sleeve, and Emma froze. Soleil's sudden happiness and the field's relative quiet was for a reason – they had just walked into werewolf territory. Everyone was recovering from the previous night's full moon.

"Oh, shit," Emma hissed to herself as she really took a look around. This wasn't at all what she expected to walk into, and she was going to make sure to give Fenrir a piece of her mind about this one. She would see someone sniff the air and then look at her curiously and look at Persephone and Draco with disdain. Some looked like her, with scars on their faces; others only had bites just barely seen under clothing. There were infinitely more men than women, but her eyes seemed to find the women first. "You two should really go."

"These are all werewolves, aren't they?" Persephone asked quietly. To her credit, though she sounded nervous, she was holding up much better than Draco, who was shaking like a leaf.

"Yes," Emma said quietly. An odd, almost overwhelming feeling swept through her that she couldn't explain. "You should go…"

"We're already here. We might as well keep going."

"You're not…" Emma trailed off, a deep frown crossing her face. What was she supposed to say? That they weren't werewolves? That they weren't like her? That they didn't belong? Did Emma even belong there? Even if she had diplomatic immunity from Fenrir, did she truly and honestly belong?

Emma met the curious gaze of a woman that didn't appear that much older than her. She took in the scars that lined the side of her neck, her blue eyes boring into Emma's, as her head tilted with her curiosity. As the woman turned her head to talk to someone, Emma noticed the scars that trailed from her hairline and down the side of her face to her chin. These were people like her…

"All right," Emma said slowly, straightening up. She supposed she would have to try and fake things a little further. Anyone associated with Fenrir wouldn't be so cowed and would have a cocky arrogance that spanned miles. "But don't do anything stupid, please. I feel enough guilt as it is, and I don't need you two adding to it."

Loud laughter echoed somewhere up ahead, and Emma had a sneaking suspicion that was where she needed to go. Emma squared her shoulders, casting a look over her shoulder at Draco and Persephone, and continued on.

When Fenrir said she would know exactly when she was where she needed to be, he wasn't kidding. Just to the left was a dark green tent, with a crowd of men and a single woman sitting around a fire with plates in their hands. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted through the air, and it seemed as though the occupants of the other tents were waking just for the scent. They were laughing, wide smiles on their faces looking far more rested than anyone else. Emma didn't want to be scared, but the sheer bulk of half of the men worried her. Just like Fenrir, if they wanted to, they could break her clean in half.

Emma clutched hard to the strap of her bag, and she looked back at Persephone and Draco. They looked horrified, and Emma felt beyond horrified. This was too much. As a small child, half-dressed in his pajamas, ran past them with scars littering his chest and arms, completely ignoring them, Emma felt herself stop breathing. Her heart shattered, and even Draco suddenly looked affected by seeing the child.

"Emma," Persephone said quietly, lifting a hand to point over Emma's shoulder.

Her heart stopping, Emma turned back to find the group outside the tent staring at them curiously. Soleil was howling with joy, and Emma's mouth went dry with her nerves. Emma was frozen where she stood, at a loss of what she was meant to do. Suddenly one of the men rose and started walking their way.

This. Was. A. Problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heheheheheheh. We've got more werewolves. With how many people there were at the World Cup, you cannot tell me that there weren't werewolves at the World Cup. Sorry, not sorry. Also, this particular note won't make sense later on, but it's fine - a second chapter is going up later. Have to rename someone, but struggling to come up with their new name. It has to be a good one!
> 
> To all of my late night readers - go to bed! I love you, good night!
> 
> **come find me on:**   
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> 


	30. A Changing World

The man heading their way reminded Emma of Fenrir. He wasn't quite as tall as Fenrir but certainly had the bulk, and all of his features were darker. She decided that he looked to be the Spanish version of Fenrir, as he wore that same expression – thick brows knit together as though he were cross. However, his dark hair was cut short, and his scars were concentrated near his chin, coming up in thick, rough lines clipping through his beard.

He stopped directly in front of Emma, and she held his gaze for a moment before looking away nervously. What was she supposed to do? Hold his gaze? Not hold his gaze? Did she even have a status? This was none of the information Fenrir gave her. She knew that there were different designations, different roles, but Emma had no idea if she _had_ one.

The man sniffed the air curiously as he took a look at her. His eyes trailed over the scars on her face, pausing at the split on her lip and then finding the ring on her finger. He started to circle her with a thoughtful hum, and Emma tried to keep herself from tensing up further.

"You're Fenrir's," he said, bending closer to her to sniff her hair. It didn't sound like a question, which Emma felt was a good sign. At least she didn't have to explain that much. He returned to her front, crossing his arms. "Well?" he asked, his tone demanding.

"Y-yes," Emma choked out. She swore she was going to kill Fenrir for this one. The bastard literally threw her to the wolves.

Emma lifted her gaze when there was near raucous laughter coming from the rest of the group. They were listening, far too curious about what was about to happen. Well, that was rather aggravating that they were laughing at her expense. The only ones not laughing were the woman and one of the men with light-brown hair who's brow furrowed as he looked at her.

A stunned smile crossed the face of the man in front of her, and he glanced over his shoulder at the others. Emma wasn't sure what they found so amusing. Was it because she didn't know what she was doing? Or was it something else?

"Holy shit," he said, giving Emma another good look, his eyes raking over her from top to bottom, his smile widening. "You're Fenrir's mate, aren't you?" Emma managed a weak nod in response, not wanting to agree to that bit of information, but it was all she had. She _really_ didn't want to agree when they were laughing at her. "Holy shit, we've got the little half-wolf in our presence. She actually exists."

"You're taking the piss," shouted one of the others, a younger-looking man with dark brown hair. " _That's_ Fenrir's mate? He's going to break her in half. Is he mental?"

"She's Lupin's cub, though," said another one of the men – a redhead. "You know Fen wouldn't dare pass up the opportunity to get ahold of her just from that alone. You know Remus was his favorite."

"Ah, yes, the pup who got away," said another, one of the blondes. "Wonder if Fen'll let me have a go with her."

Emma felt her face grow hot, and her head snapped up to find the werewolf that just spoke. The female werewolf immediately punched him hard in the chest, a look of disgust on her face. She turned to the brown-haired man.

"That makes her yer responsibility, Raoul," said the woman, her accent thick. "I doubt Fen would be amused to hear what Fergus and Killian had to say about his mate. Small or not, he's obviously taken a likin' to her, especially since she knocked him on his arse." The woman turned to the man she had hit. "You know Fen doesn't share; he certainly didn't share his last mate, and even if he did, I doubt he's going to share her. If yeh quit being a slimy bastard, yeh could find yerself a decent bitch."

"I'd take my chances with a bitch like you," he replied, waggling his eyebrows.

"Oh, shove it up yer arse, Fergus," the woman said. "Yeh can go and feck yerself."

The brown-haired man, Raoul, frowned at the woman before standing up and stepping up beside the man still in front of Emma. The two passed a silent look to each other, and the first man stepped away to rejoin the others.

"Fenrir better have a good reason for sending you over here," Raoul said, crossing his arms.

"You're Raoul?" Emma asked, trying to tamp down her nerves. When he nodded, Emma reached into her bag to pull out the heavy pouch Fenrir gave her. "Good, I didn't exactly have to ask for you. He said for me to give this to you, and you'd know what to do."

"Oh, shitting hell," Raoul muttered, taking the pouch from Emma. "He already…" Raoul sighed, rubbing his forehead. "On who?"

"Said Ireland," Emma shrugged. "Beyond that, I know nothing."

Raoul sighed again. "Well, I'm sure Fenrir will be pleased that you came around. It would have been nice to know that you were going to be here at all, but I suppose with how things have been with the pack…"

Emma understood what Raoul was trying to say, and she rubbed the back of her neck nervously. This was all too weird, and the silence was awkward.

"I'm Fenrir's second in command, which I suppose means I'll be yours as well," Raoul said to break up the quiet. "He already sent me along with his bet for the match, but I suppose this particular little pouch is meant for you." He gave the pouch a shake before tucking it into the front pocket of his trousers.

"For me?" Emma questioned, finally looking up at Raoul. He was a little shorter than Sirius with blue eyes with no scars on his face. It appeared that most of his scars were on his arms. He was the least scarred up werewolf besides Elara she had ever seen, but then again, all of Elara's scars were underneath her clothes.

"You're Fenrir's mate, which means he'll take care of you," Raoul said. "Do you mind? I just want to double-check," he said, automatically reaching for Emma's left hand. She flinched back out of instinct and immediately regretted it as Raoul's eyebrows lifted in surprise. _Good going, Lupin_.

Emma's reaction seemed to catch the attention of the female as she got up to join Raoul. The woman was around the same height as Raoul, and Emma found herself a little jealous. She woman stared hard at Emma, studying every inch of her closely with her sharp blue eyes. Emma desperately wanted to curl in on herself with the scrutinization. She tried to keep herself still when the woman lifted her hand to touch where Jude had slapped her, but her reaction was the same.

"Who hit yeh?" the woman asked with a slight growl to her voice. Emma could only shake her head, feeling incredibly embarrassed. "Yer one of us, yeh can tell us yeh know," the woman said, moving much slower as she pressed her hand to Emma's cheek. Emma nearly leaned her face into the woman's touch, grateful for how soothing her hand felt on her still stinging cheek. "We might all be different packs, but we're all a family. Well, yeh can ignore the shite ones, o' course, but we're not all terrible. Which do you prefer – Soleil or Emma?"

"Emma."

"So who hit yeh then, Emma?"

"It's complicated," Emma said quietly.

"Fenrir said she's a quiet one," Raoul said. "Not too sure you'll get much out of her Eirwyn."

"Eh, it's because yer all a nasty bunch," Eirwyn said, looking over at Raoul. She gently moved her hand to run her thumb against the split in Emma's lip, tutting softly. "Not too sure I can blame her with yeh lot around. Have yeh been around many other werewolves before, Emma?"

"No," Emma muttered. "Just a few others, and certainly not this many in one time."

"Well, this isn't how I would have yeh meet the other Alphas, but I suppose it's one way of doin' it. Better ta get it all done in one shot, yeh know?"

"Are you one, as well?" Emma asked curiously.

"Aye, little petal," Eirwyn said with a slight smile. "All of us here except for the wee one are Alphas. An' yeh'll be one too when everythin' is said and done. It's about time we had another female in our ranks. Gets a bit borin' dealin' with these blokes. Turns into a pissin' contest real quick." Eirwyn took another look at Emma. "How old are yeh? Yer smaller than I thought yeh would be."

"I'll be fifteen in two weeks," Emma replied, looking at Eirwyn with an awe-struck wonder. She had no idea why she never considered the idea that there was a female pack leader after everything she had learned. The woman in front of her was suddenly one of the most fascinating people she had ever come across, and Emma didn't want her to be.

"Oh, yeh poor little petal, they're goin' ta eat yeh alive if yer not exposed to more of yer kind," tutted Eirwyn, dropping her hand back to her side. "Explains why Fen would send her over, aye?" she said to Raoul.

"Doesn't explain why someone who's still a pup is flinching so much," Raoul said in response, an eyebrow arching. Raoul looked past Emma at the others, his eyes narrowing.

"Aye, it doesn't," Eirwyn said. "Yeh know it wouldn't take us much to figure it out if yeh don't tell us, Petal. Yer safe with us. Fen would eat us alive if we let anything happen to yeh. He's very protective of yeh."

Emma frowned slightly at that. She still wasn't sure how she felt about other werewolves knowing about her.

"Do we need to ask yer little friends over there? Something tells me that they know."

"I would rather you not," Emma said. "It's complicated because I don't know what to call him."

Emma's words struck a chord with Raoul, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at her. He looked over her shoulder at Persephone and Draco, then back at Emma, a displeased look crossing his face.

"Tell them to leave," Raoul said. "You're not going back until the match begins."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Emma said, startled at the very thought. She wasn't sure that she liked the idea of being in the company of so many werewolves. Then again, she didn't want to go back with Persephone or Draco either. The werewolves honestly seemed like a better idea.

"You're not going back," Raoul said firmly. "They have no interest in coming over here, and Fenrir won't want you near Jude any longer than you need to be."

 _Oh_.

"Do yeh know where yer tent is? We can bring yeh back just before the match," Eirwyn said. "Or we can bring yeh to yer box if yeh have yer ticket with yeh," she added at Raoul's look.

"I have it with me," Emma said quietly.

"Good, then go tell them to leave," Raoul said. "I'm sure it won't be a problem."

There was something about the tone that Raoul took that led Emma to believe that he knew the situation and knew it well. If this was Fenrir's second, she wasn't surprised, and she gave him a slight nod. Emma made her way back to the others, ignoring their looks of alarm.

"Emma, we're not leaving you alone," Persephone hissed.

"They're werewolves," Draco said, looking over her shoulder at the group.

"So?" Emma asked, crossing her arms. It was one thing for her to comment about werewolves when she was already half-way there, but it annoyed her coming from Draco.

"They're…well, you know."

"I don't know," Emma said sharply. "Draco, you spent an entire year with a werewolf and had no idea. If you're going to start on the same shit as everyone else, then you might as well go back to mummy and daddy. Just go."

"But Emma –" Persephone started.

"No, I don't want to hear it," Emma said. "I already said I wasn't going back to the tent. I'll sleep outside if I have to; I don't bloody care. I'm not going anywhere Jude is."

"He'll be in the box with us," Persephone said, her tone almost pleading.

"Well, then someone's just going to have to make sure he's nowhere near me, then," Emma said, starting to walk backward. "I'm not going back. He hurt me on Saturday and did it again today. What if tonight's the night he decides he wants to kill me? I'm not stupid. I'd say I'll take my chances, but something tells me I'm a lot safer here than with you lot."

Before Persephone could protest again, Emma turned back around and made her way over to Raoul and Eirwyn. She was much less nervous than before, but it was still odd. Remus would never let her be around other werewolves like this, and she was almost afraid to tell him. There was no doubt that this was all a part of Fenrir's plan, and she hated him for it, but she would never get this experience otherwise. She wanted to know what this side of things was like before making a decision.

Raoul led Emma to the camp chair he had been sitting in and motioned for her to take it as he found another. She sat down slowly, trying to ignore the fact that she was _surrounded_ by werewolves. The first man she talked to was now sitting to her left, eying her curiously, and Eirwyn to her right.

They were all looking at her, and Emma tried to pretend it didn't worry her. They were all wary of her, and she didn't blame them; she knew of their distrust of wizards. She didn't blame them for that either, as she was starting to understand that as well. However, Emma wasn't ignorant enough to pretend that the situation she was in good go south fast. The only reason she was safe at all was because she was Fenrir's, though they weren't sure whether to believe that or not. Hopefully, they would realize she was telling the truth.

"Oi, Olcan, can yeh get some Dittany for the lass?" Eirwyn asked, looking over at a dark-skinned man near one of the other tents. "She has a wee cut."

"Oh, no, it's fine," Emma tried to say, but Eirwyn lifted a hand.

"We take care of each other," she said simply.

"So," said the redhead, leaning towards Emma with a wolfish grin on his face. " _You're_ Fenrir's mate? Didn't even think you existed. How do we know you're who you say you are?"

"Mate, you can smell Fen all over her," said one of the younger men. "Don't be stupid, Rendell."

"Listen, Aiden, I'm just trying to make sure," Rendell said with a shrug.

"Oi, Balin, is that Fen's?" asked one the other blonde, pointing at Emma's hand.

The man next to her turned to look at her hand. He held his hand out, and Emma very slowly deposited her hand in his. His hands were nowhere near as calloused as Fenrir's and Emma was slightly startled.

"Well, shit," the man, Balin, said, finally letting go of Emma's hand after his very thorough inspection of the ring on her finger. "It's really her."

"Yeh lot are stupid, 'specially you Liekos. If yeh smelled Fen, then yeh should've known," Eirwyn scoffed, thanking Olcan for the bottle of Dittany he handed her. "Look at me, Petal," she said softly.

Emma couldn't help but stop her embarrassed flush as Eirwyn applied the Dittany to her lip with a bit of cotton. "Thank you," she muttered. Too bad it wouldn't ever heal properly, but at least there wouldn't be an infection. She nearly shuddered – Fenrir would have been inclined to lick it to heal.

"It's nothin'," Eirwyn said, and then silence fell again.

Everyone was staring at her except for the small boy crouched down next to the fire, happily throwing twigs and leaves into the flames. He seemed to pick up on the curious mood and looked at Emma, his head tilting to the side. With a sudden burst of energy, he was back on his feet and practically launched himself onto Emma's lap.

The boy that climbed onto Emma's lap couldn't have been any older than six. He had a mop of curly, dirty-blonde hair and deep brown eyes with a smattering of freckles across his tiny nose. When he smiled at her, he had two massive front teeth like a bunny. He was positively the cutest thing Emma had ever seen. The other werewolves watched her even closer now; it would take her time to earn their trust.

"You're really pretty," he said shyly, making Emma laugh. He ran one of his tiny fingers down the long scar across her face, and Emma didn't mind.

"You're pretty handsome yourself," Emma said, smiling as the boy suddenly leaned into her to hide his face with shy giggles. "What's your name?"

"I'm Caddock, but everyone calls me Ducky," he said.

Emma's breath hitched, and tears sprung in her eyes. _Nonononono_. This boy couldn't be real, even though Boris had talked about him at length with such an affectionate tone that she had fallen in love with the boy. He had told her that Ducky was small, but Merlin, she had no idea just how small the boy would be. Ducky looked up at her, a small pout on his tiny little mouth.

"Why are your eyes raining?" he asked.

Emma couldn't stop another laugh and hugged the boy tight to her. Somehow this small little werewolf boy still maintained his innocence, and Emma was grateful for it. It was far more innocence than Emma ever got to have at his age.

"I'm happy to meet you finally," Emma said. She thought for a moment she lied about that, but she was telling the truth. "You know, Boris has told me a lot about you."

That seemed to appease Ducky as he threw his arms around her neck, his smile back. The other werewolves seemed to relax fractionally.

"I know Boris!" he said happily. "You know Boris, too?"

"Yes, I know Boris," Emma said as Ducky leaned back to look at her. "We're…" Emma trailed off for what felt like the millionth time that day. She looked up at the other Alpha's and Raoul, their gazes expectant, waiting for the answer that they weren't sure she'd give. Emma looked back down at Ducky, smoothing back his hair and smiling as his curls bounced back into shape beneath her fingers. "I know Boris," she concluded. It was the only answer she could give.

Ducky seemed more than content with that answer and turned himself back around, leaning back against Emma. There were murmurings from the other Alphas, but Emma knew she couldn't give an answer – not yet. He shoved his thumb in his mouth, and it was more than Emma could handle. If this was Fenrir's way of convincing her to say yes to joining the pack, then damn it, it was effective. She had fallen in love with this little boy faster than she ever would have expected. Emma was in so much trouble.

"Boris is here, you know," Raoul said. "Fenrir allowed the teenagers to come out for the match. Felt they needed a bit of fun."

"Boris is here?" Emma asked, unable to stop her smile.

Ducky flipped his head up to look at Emma, his arms stretching up so that he could clasp her face with his hands. He pulled her face down to look at him with his bright little smile. "Do you want me to get Boris? I'll go wake him up!"

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Emma laughed.

"I'm going to wake him up!" Ducky proclaimed, leaping off her lap and running off again.

"He's a cute one," Killian said. "Reminds me a bit of myself at his age."

A collective groan echoed throughout the group.

"Don't start, Kils," said Aiden. "We've got…shit, what do you go by? Fen can't seem to pick a bloody name for you."

"That's why we decided she didn't exist, remember?" said Olcan sagely. "She was three people and then one all in one sentence that one day."

"He has his names for me based on his mood," Emma said with a sheepish grin. "Emma is more than fine."

"Emma!" said several men all at once.

"Fen's little princess finally has a bloody name!" said Fergus. "Heard you knocked him on his arse real good with your wand. Been real curious about that. Said you didn't even say a word, and he flew across the room. Can't imagine that's possible with a big brute like him."

"I could show you," Emma said, raising her eyebrows in challenge. "If you don't believe me, of course, though it seems silly that you would doubt Fenrir's claim."

"Oh ho ho," Rendell said, walking over to Fergus and nudging him. "She's got you there, mate."

"Don' listen ta them," Eirwyn said, rolling her eyes. "Like I said, it's a pissin' contest. Yeh don't have to go through the trouble."

"No, let her give it a go," Fergus said, standing up from his seat. "Bet she can't even knock me to the next tent over. Give it a try, princess."

Emma looked back at Raoul, unsure if she needed permission, and he gave a small shrug.

"I confess I'm curious too," he said. "He's asking for it, so if he's willing…"

That was all the permission Emma needed. She pulled her wand out, giving it a slight twirl in her hands. "Are you _sure_ that you want me to do this?" Emma asked. "I can probably knock you three tents over."

"Just do it already. I'm a werewolf, love, you're not going to do –"

Fergus didn't even get a chance to finish his sentence before Emma had her wand out, and he was launched at least four tents down, landing hard on his bottom. Everyone looked between Emma and Fergus in surprise before bursting out into laughter.

"Holy shit, Fen's got a strong little bitch!" Balin said, clapping Emma hard on the shoulder. If Emma wasn't aware of the term used for females, she might have been offended. "You're going to be fucking fun to be around."

"Whoa," said a very familiar voice close by.

Emma turned her head to see Boris staring at Fergus slowly getting back up, and she smiled. Ducky was holding onto his hand, bouncing up and down excitedly.

"I brought Boris for you!" Ducky shouted gleefully.

"Emma?" Boris asked in surprise. Emma didn't even get a chance to get up from her chair before Boris ran up to her, pulling her up into a tight hug. "What are you doing here?"

"Bit of a long story," Emma said when Boris finally let her go. She blushed when she realized that everyone was once again staring.

"Well, I'm glad that you're here," Boris said excitedly. "I wasn't sure when I would see you again!"

Emma could only manage a small nod, holding herself close with the uncertainty of not knowing what to do again. Boris was beaming at her, seemingly oblivious to Emma's confusion, and once again, Emma was reminded of a Labrador. He would be so much fun to have at Hogwarts, and he had a great time learning to cast spells with her wand. She wondered if she could convince Fenrir to let him join her.

"Perhaps it's time to start waking up the others," Liekos said. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I would like to get some more sleep."

"Yeh shouldn't need any sleep after that Wolfsbane Fen made us all buy off of him."

Emma frowned slightly and glanced over at Eirwyn. There was absolutely no way that Fenrir had sold the Wolfsbane to _this_ specific set of werewolves.

"I need a bloody kip after Fen's bitch knocked me clean off my arse," Fergus said, rubbing his back. "He wasn't bloody kidding."

"He warned you that she was powerful," Raoul said.

"That was _you_ that did that?" Boris asked Emma in pure awe.

"Uhm, yeah," Emma said. She looked over at Eirwyn curiously. "Fenrir sold you all Wolfsbane?"

"Yeah," Aiden said. "Wasn't bloody cheap either. Insisted it was the best he's ever had and that it would be better for us to have."

"Except that one day when we had other shit because the usual supply didn't come in," Liekos said. "Wonder what happened with that."

Emma sat back down slowly in her chair, listening to them all talk. She didn't think to ask Fenrir about who he was actually selling to. Did he know that they would bring it up with her around? It was clear they didn't know who made it. She wasn't going to lie and say that it didn't fill her with some sort of pride if it was her brew as they mentioned feeling better than usual. Could she be a potioneer and sell the potion at cost in the future? Even better, could she find a way to get it given out for free? If she was stuck with Fenrir, would he even let her?

Fenrir was absolutely adamant against the potion except in select instances. He wasn't wrong when he said it was a poison – the entire potion was a dedicated poison meant to target the wolf. He didn't like the idea of suppressing the wolf and had mentioned several times that morning he was glad that he didn't need to retake it for a long while. Fenrir was beyond ready to run free and hunt again with no issues. Of course, he made sure to compliment her on the difference in quality, but this was different. These were _other_ werewolves, and she didn't kill them on accident. They didn't even know it was her that made it, and she felt overjoyed.

"And what do you do during the full, Emma?" Killian suddenly asked her, and Emma felt her face heat up. "You don't transform yet, so what do you do?"

"Well, I still have to take the potion to ease the symptoms," Emma said, scratching her head. "The full's pretty bad for me since I don't transform and I'm essentially stuck in my own body, so I sleep. There's not much else I can do."

"Well, that's shit," Aiden said. "Why doesn't Fen turn you, then?"

"Fenrir has his reasons," Raoul said sharply. "You know better than to question his decisions. Don't pester her about it."

Emma had a feeling that Raoul knew Fenrir's reasons, and she gave him a grateful smile. He gave her a small nod in return.

The camp was slowly coming alive, people finally coming out of tents, and Emma found herself nervous again. Once again, she was fully aware that she was a stranger, but she felt somewhat welcome. She felt strange just sitting there, but it was easier for her to listen and Boris seemed more than content to join them. Ducky had returned to Emma's lap, and Boris picked at the plates of bacon sitting nearby.

"Did anyone offer Fen's little princess anything?" Fergus suddenly asked.

"I don't need anything," Emma said. "But if you call me princess one more time, I'll try and launch you even further."

"I swear, if Fen doesn't want her, I want her," Killian said as they all laughed. "She's bloody brilliant."

"We should probably start setting up the kitchen for everyone else," Rendell sighed as he stood, stretching out. "A lot of mouths to feed today."

"Oh," Emma said. "Did you want help?"

She had no idea why she asked, but she received several looks of surprise. Emma thought she had done the wrong thing and started to sink back in her chair.

"Well, well," Liekos said, giving Emma an approving look. "Powerful, and Fen's found a bitch for himself that isn't lazy. She's already better than the last one." He gave Emma one final look before walking off with Killian and Olcan.

"You're a guest," Raoul said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to do a thing. But in the future, if you'd like to help…"

Emma nodded, feeling a little better about things.

"Can you even cook?" Boris asked Emma curiously.

"Not at all," Emma said with a nervous giggle.

"It's all right," Ducky said, pulling his fingers out of his mouth. "I can't cook either, but I make really good mud pies!"

"I bet you do," Emma said.

"Maybe I'll show you sometime!" Ducky said excitedly, giving her his sweet little smile again.

"Maybe…"

The more time she spent with the rest of the werewolves, the less awkward it became. As hard as Emma tried, she couldn't make herself completely comfortable, but Raoul tried his best to check up on her. She wasn't sure if it was because she was new or if it was because she was Fenrir's, but he was very attentive. Emma had a feeling that anything she wanted, he would figure out how to get ahold of.

"Do you all call Fenrir by just Fen?" Emma asked during a lull in the conversation.

"Yes," said Killian slowly. "Don't you?"

"I, er…I've never thought about it, actually," Emma admitted.

"Yeh should," Eirwyn said gently. "Bit easier than calling him Fenrir the entire time."

"Yeah, maybe he'll let you call him _Love Muffin_ ," Rendell said with a hearty laugh.

"No, no, Fen would be a _Stud_ Muffin," Balin said. "Get it straight."

There were more suggestions of what Emma could call Fenrir, and she had to laugh. It was genuinely funny to hear their recommendations, and she said she would keep them in mind. The conversation shifted to them explaining how their full moon went. Emma was fascinated to find that they had traveled far out for their transformations just so they could stay at the campground. There were around 50 other werewolves in the camp, a mix of men, women, and children between the packs. The Alphas took the Wolfsbane to make sure that the rest of the wolves were kept in line. They wanted to attend the World Cup, and they weren't looking to hunt. The fewer issues they had, the better. It made Emma a little ill when they discussed previous human hunting trips, but it was the reality of things. It didn't make Emma feel any less uneasy knowing that she would most likely have the same desire one day.

Nothing made you question your humanity more than that realization.

Boris stuck close to Emma, and she was grateful for it, especially when Raoul suggested introducing her to some of the other werewolves. She was glad that Raoul mentioned that all of them would most likely smell her because it startled her the first time. Boris did most of the initial introductions, she would be sniffed, and most times, Emma would receive a welcoming smile. The only real issue that came up was meeting the other teenagers of Fenrir's pack. Emma didn't think she would have a decent go of making friends with any of them.

The two females, Phalen and Marcelina, seemed less than thrilled to see Emma, but the boys were more responsive. Coinin, Lowe, Harvey, Caleb, and Leidolf seemed more than happy to welcome Emma into the group.

"Just ignore those two," Boris said, waving off Emma's quietly voiced concerns as they made their way back to the Alpha's tent. "They're just jealous of you."

"Of me? I haven't even done anything," Emma muttered. She had no idea why the two girls were at all jealous of her when they were gorgeous. Phalen had long dark brown hair and bright blue eyes, and Marcelina was a tall blonde with light brown eyes. If they were so interested in Fenrir, Emma couldn't understand why Fenrir was fascinated with her instead.

"You're the Alpha's mate," Raoul said. "It's the height of honor to be the Alpha's mate, especially Fenrir's. He hasn't taken a mate in years, and most were under the impression you weren't real. They feel slighted now that they know they don't have a chance."

"It wasn't as though I asked for it," Emma said pointedly. "And why is it more honorable to be Fenrir's mate?"

"Because he rules over all of the packs," Boris said with wide eyes. "Did you not know that?"

"I must have forgotten," Emma lied. "It's been a trying few weeks." She had no idea that was even a thing and clearly had so much more to learn.

Emma adored the children more than anything, and they seemed to like her a lot, too. The moment they returned to the Alpha's tent, the children swarmed on her – eight in all. All boys except for one lone little girl. They all asked her curious questions, and the more questions they asked, the more serious Emma realized things were. If she joined Fenrir's pack, there was an extraordinary amount of power there already for her, and it scared her.

These small children already had expectations of her, wanting to learn from her. She was special, Fenrir said. She was different. It was weird for her to hear the children telling her things about herself like she mattered to them. Perhaps, in a way, she did. Emma feared that Fenrir had gratefully inflated her accomplishments.

She couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance between the shy little girl and Killian. He saw Emma's curious look and walked over, grabbing the girl into his arms and holding her upside down to make her giggle. He held her there until her little face turned red with her laughter.

"This quiet little one is my daughter Belinda," Killian explained, flipping the girl right side up and holding her against his hip to tickle her sides and neck. "She's my pride and joy. Say hello to Emma." Belinda immediately hid her face in Killian's chest but gave a small wave to Emma anyway. Killian hummed softly, kissing the top of Belinda's head.

"I know most people don't understand it," he said, stepping up next to Emma and trying to convince Belinda to show her face. "When I was turned, it was terrifying. Single dad," he explained, looking over at Emma. "I was trying to start my acting career out in London. It was a complete accident when it happened, and I was terrified for us both. I turned her myself because I couldn't stand the idea of not having her with me. It was a risk because she was so young, but I lost everything, and I wasn't losing her, too."

Killian sighed, holding Belinda closer and burying his face in her hair for a moment, breathing in deeply. "We know that it has to be hard for you to be away from your father," he said. "I can't imagine how he's dealing with it all."

"It's hard," Emma admitted, taking a steadying breath. "He's my best friend, even if he's an idiot."

"I hope she feels the same about me when she's your age," Killian chuckled, rubbing his nose against Belinda's when she looked at him. "It's not all bad since we have each other. Some months are harder than others, but…you know. I'll leave you be. I think it's about time this little one has a kip, and quite honestly, I need one. If I don't see you, it really was nice to see that you're actually real. Fen gets a little overzealous sometimes. He's an excellent leader, but sometimes I think he likes to hear himself talk."

Emma grinned at that. She had almost no doubt that Fenrir liked to hear himself talk sometimes. It was rare, but he could sometimes talk more than her, and Emma called him out on it every time. He didn't like it, but she was more than happy to point out he was a hypocrite every time he complained about her talking too much.

Time moved very quickly with the werewolves to the point she had gotten through dinner without realizing it, and it was time to head to the stadium. She had no idea how time had passed so seamlessly to the point she was having a lot of fun. That scared her more than anything.

"Come on," Raoul said. "I'll walk with you. Fenrir would be angry with me if I let you go off on your own."

"I'll come with yeh," Eirwyn said. "Real curious to meet this Jude bloke."

"He's a cunt, is what he is," Emma muttered much to Eirwyn's amusement.

"From what I've heard from Fenrir, he's a piece of work," Raoul said as they walked. "I didn't mean to listen in earlier, but you said he hurt you on Saturday?"

"He, uhm…the Cruciatus," Emma answered. Eirwyn's eyes flashed with rage, and Emma grimaced. "He used to use it on me when I was smaller. I was, er…distracted."

"What were you doing? Fenrir said that your father taught you how to duel."

Emma cringed slightly. "I was er…working in the potion's lab," Emma said slowly, hoping that they didn't make the connection. She apparently wasn't so lucky.

"Petal, what potion were you makin'?" Eirwyn asked.

"A very…er, specific potion," Emma said, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Jesus Christ, yer the one who made the potion, wasn' it?" Eirwyn asked, slapping Raoul's arm in delight. "No feckin' wonder yeh got all shifty when we were talkin' about it."

Emma felt herself blush, and she rubbed her cheeks in a horrid attempt at hiding the pink creeping up her face. "I didn't know who Fenrir was selling it to," Emma said quickly. "He just had me bottle it up, and I just did it. He brought me back high-quality ingredients, so who was I to question his decision? I was just delighted that I could make a better potion for Dad."

"Oh, it was brilliant, don' be embarrassed," Eirwyn said, pulling Emma into her side. "I think we can keep yer little secret, eh Raoul?" She nudged Raoul with her elbow, and he shook his head with a huffed out laugh. "Listen, here's a bit of advice for yeh, Petal. Yeh've got ta get Fenrir by the bollocks if yeh wan' any hopes of keeping him in line." Emma's eyes grew wide, and Eirwyn grinned. "Both figuratively and literally, Petal.

"We females need to stick together. The males are all the same, especially werewolf men – they think with their cocks. If yer goin' to survive, yeh need to learn tha' fast," Eirwyn said, giving Emma a sweet smile. "I think yeh'll do all right. The more time yeh spend with yer kind, the more yeh'll understand."

"I'll be sure to _not_ tell Fenrir that you just told his mate to grab him by the balls to keep him in line," Raoul said dryly. "I'm sure that would go over well."

"Ah, she's a wee one. He's smitten with her. She'll be fine."

The closer they got to the stadium, the louder things became, and Emma couldn't help but wonder how Eirwyn and Raoul were handling it.

"Carefully applied charms," Raoul said, seemingly reading Emma's mind. "Very carefully applied. Do you have any spending money? You should pick up some souvenirs. It's your first World Cup, after all."

The fact Raoul made it sound like she would get to attend multiples was a surprisingly hopeful prospect. She felt funny using the money Fenrir gave her, but she wasn't about to pass up the opportunity. Raoul and Eirwyn didn't seem to mind following Emma as she spotted carts she wanted to stop at. She kept apologizing every single time, and at one point, Eirwyn gave Emma a funny look.

"My God," she said. "Please tell me that Fen's become smitten with a little Hufflepuff." Emma gave a small grin in response, and Eirwyn burst into laughter. "Oh, the dog!" she said, slapping her knee. "How brilliant! He made her sound like a little Gryffindor, but he's gone and found himself a wee badger! No wonder everyone loves her."

Emma wanted to mention that not everyone loved her if the two girls were of any indication, but she wasn't going to bring it up. She had enjoyed herself after leaving the Malfoy tent, and she wanted to keep her good mood going for as long as possible. With an Ireland t-shirt, a walking miniature figure of Moran, and a pair of Omnioculars purchased, they finally made their way to the closest entrance to where Emma was supposed to be.

Persephone was waiting anxiously, tapping her foot impatiently. Emma sighed as Persephone spotted them walking up, and she ran over.

"Where have you _been_?" Persephone asked. "You were supposed to be back for dinner."

"Oh, well," Emma shrugged.

"Jude's _pissed_ that you didn't show up."

"Oh, why? So he could hit me again?" Emma scoffed. "It's not like his required weekend was meant to extend out into today."

"Because you embarrassed him in front of everyone."

"I embarrassed him? Really? Did you not listen to what he was saying? He didn't have to hit me back!"

"I mean, you could've approached things differently."

Emma was about to open her mouth to make a retort, but Raoul put a hand on her shoulder. "We'll come up with you," he said. "This isn't your fight, Emma."

"But he's –"

"Fenrir plans to take care of the problem," Raoul said simply.

Up they walked, higher and higher into the stands. Emma was getting dizzy with how high they were going until they finally reached the top box. The view when they stepped through the door was extraordinary, and Emma was so focused on taking in the view that she didn't even notice Jude. He was on his feet in an instant, storming over to them and drawing attention from the occupants of the box. Emma flinched back instinctively but Raoul and Eirwyn stepped in front of her. That was a new one for her.

"You must be Jude," Raoul said pleasantly. He grabbed hard onto Jude's shoulder in the way that Jude usually held onto her. "I think my friend and I need to have a little chat with you." Eirwyn acted as a buffer to keep Jude from getting anywhere near Emma, and she gave Emma a wink. Maybe the whole pack thing wasn't such a bad idea, after all…

"Emma!"

 _Oh, no_.

"Oh, no," Persephone said quietly, echoing Emma's unspoken thoughts as she looked over at Emma. She looked disturbed by what had just happened with Jude, but she looked equally alarmed that George Weasley had just gotten up out of his seat.

George pulled Emma into a tight hug, and Emma couldn't stop herself from melting into it. Everything could be fine, right? It wasn't like they had to get married, and Emma felt so at ease in George's arms.

"I didn't know you were going to be here!" George said happily. "Why did it take you so long to get here?"

"It's, er, a bit of a long story," Emma said sheepishly.

"Come on, come say hi to everyone!"

George immediately swept Emma further into the box to her embarrassment. Lucius Malfoy was eying her with even more disdain than before, but Emma didn't care. She was passed between each Weasley and wound up receiving two delighted hugs from Arthur to make up for Ron's awkward hug. She was amazed to meet both Bill and Charlie. Bill was tall and the very definition of cool, and Charlie seemed just as fun. They all complimented her on her hair, gently ruffling it to fluff up the waves until Emma was sure her hair was frizzy. Hermione's hug was gentle, and Emma couldn't help but appreciate the gesture that she remembered the full moon had just passed. That left Harry for last, and the two just stared at each other for a long moment.

"Come here, you idiot," Emma said, pulling Harry into a hug. "I'm glad to finally see you," she said, genuinely meaning it. She still wasn't sure about the idea of Harry eventually living with them, but she was definitely happy to see him. Emma gave Harry a quick peck on the cheek. "I didn't get to tell you, but Pads said he missed you. Not sure if he's written lately."

Harry gave Emma a sad smile and shook his head. "No, he hasn't, not since the beginning of the month. Was he –?"

"For a little while, yeah," Emma said.

"You look…different. Like your dad."

Emma gave a small nod. "You have no idea," she said with a sigh. Emma gave a slight start as someone touched her shoulder, and she found Raoul right behind her.

"Jude shouldn't be a problem for the rest of the night," he said with a polite smile.

"If yeh have any trouble, yeh know where to find us," Eirwyn said from just behind Raoul. She took a look around at the other patrons of the box and jerked her head towards the exit.

"We'll keep an eye out for you," Raoul promised. "But anything at all – you let us know."

"T-thanks," Emma managed to stutter out. "Really, thank you." She watched Raoul and Eirwyn make their hasty retreat, and Emma noticed the curious looks. She looked at Harry and the others and cleared her throat. "I should, er…probably go sit down now."

Emma took a seat at the end of the row with Persephone to her right. Fred and George sat just in front of her and were cracking delighted jokes. She wanted to make a quick exit if she had to, feeling slightly on edge, but Emma noticed that Jude didn't return by the time match started. Ellis had finally taken notice and left himself, and Emma finally relaxed.

It was probably one of the best nights Emma had in a while, and she had no idea that professional Quidditch would be so fun to watch. The Weasleys' commentary was phenomenal, and she wasn't sure if she was listening to them more or the official announcements. Even Hermione, who wasn't fond of Quidditch, seemed fascinated, shrieking each time a perilous play was made. Caspian and Elijah sounded like they were having the times of their lives, and Persephone kept grabbing onto Emma's arm excitedly.

She had forgotten what it was like to be completely and blissfully happy. The entire summer had felt like a blur of one bad thing after another, but she had wound up enjoying almost the whole day. Emma was still overwhelmed by her time with the werewolves, but she was bubbling with joy. She had a lot to think about, but for the moment, she didn't have a care in the world.

By the time the match was over, a surprising win on Ireland's part, Emma's face hurt from smiling. She had no idea that she would finally have a moment where nothing else mattered except for the people surrounding her and having fun. Why couldn't have the entire summer have been this way, with smiles and laughter, dancing and singing? Nothing was ever going to be better than the night she was having – absolutely nothing.

Emma's happiness had a slight damper when it came time to finally leave the stadium.

"Em, er, are you coming back with us?" Persephone asked as she started to make her way over to join the Malfoys.

"I don't…" Emma frowned slightly. "I don't think so…"

"Well, then where are you staying?" Mr. Weasley asked, looking at Emma curiously. "Do you not have anywhere to stay for tonight?"

"I do…sort of," Emma said with a grimace. "But not really."

"Well," Mr. Weasley said slowly, looking at his entire group, "why don't you come bunk with us? I don't think the girls would mind, would you?"

"Oh, I don't know," Emma said quietly.

"Please," Mr. Weasley said, giving Emma a soft smile. "Come join us."

And so, Emma went. She was acutely aware that eyes were following her the entire way, and she sincerely hoped that it was one of the other werewolves. Neither Jude nor Ellis ever returned to the box, and Emma had no idea what that meant. Emma wasn't sure that she wanted to know, but she had a feeling that she would need to rely on Fenrir a little more than usual. It was only for one more week, and that week was broken up by a three-day weekend with her father. She could handle it.

Spending time with the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione was exactly where Emma needed to be. For the second time that day, she felt as though she was somewhere she belonged. The tent was much more to her style, homey and considerably less extravagant. Fred and George did everything they possibly could to keep her laughing, gladly teasing Ron whenever they could. Charlie even told her stories of the dragons he worked with, and Emma grew even more fascinated by the stories Bill told of his work. She happily joined in the spirited conversation about the match, nursing her hot cocoa and leaning into George. How could she ever think she could ever want anything less than exactly this?

When Mr. Weasley decided they should all head to bed, Emma went smiling with Ginny and Hermione to the other tent. Mr. Weasley popped in to transfigure a third cot for her, and Emma was very appreciative of the gesture. Perhaps it was the luck of the Irish in the air that night, but Emma felt lucky.

She was in the middle of a particularly delightful dream involving Quidditch when they were all woken up by Mr. Weasley.

"Girls, get up!" he said urgently. "No time to explain. Get your jackets out and get outside!"

It was hard to tell exactly what was wrong, but the noises outside the tent didn't seem normal. Emma quickly pulled herself out of bed, throwing her jeans on over her sleep shorts and then pulling on a jumper. She had gotten used to having to change around Fenrir early in the summer, and the skill was very much needed. Emma was suddenly happy that Fenrir insisted that she take his coat with her after making fun of him for his insistence. Apparently, it would get its use, and she slung it on, holding tight to her bag as she joined the others outside.

Emma let out a sharp gasp as she followed Ron's disgusted gaze. "Are those –"

"Muggles," Ron replied with a frown.

Emma let out a small noise of disgust as she tried to figure out what was happening. She took in what looked to be a massive parade marching through, laughing at what was happening. Her stomach knotted as she noticed what looked to be a small child spinning round and round in the air.

"Get into the woods and stick together!" Mr. Weasley shouted at them. "I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out."

Fred grabbed onto Ginny's hand, and then they were off, looking back over their shoulders to watch what was happening. Everything was chaotic, panicked shouts screaming out over each other, children crying. Emma struggled to keep up as she was the smallest, and she was pushed around by people she couldn't recognize or focus on. There was a sudden great shout from Ron, and Emma slammed right into Harry's back as he stopped where he was.

"What happened?" Hermione asked. "Ron, where are you? Oh, this is stupid – _lumos_!"

Emma quickly pulled her wand out of her bag. That was probably a brilliant idea, and she lit hers as well.

"Well, with feet that size, hard not to."

 _Draco_. Emma whirled around to look at Draco, who look unaffected by what was going on. "What's your problem, Draco?" Emma snapped, glancing over at Ron as he swore at Draco.

Draco shot Emma a look before turning back to the others. "Language, Weasley," he drawled. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along now? You wouldn't like _her_ spotted, would you?" he said, nodding at Hermione. There was a sudden blast that came from the direction of the campsite, and a flash of green light lit up the trees.

"Where's George?" Emma asked suddenly.

"No idea," Harry said, taking a look around.

Emma groaned, bouncing on the balls of her feet, her boots heavy on her feet. "I'm going to see if I can find him. I'll see you lot in a bit."

It was much easier to navigate the woods when she only had to worry about herself. She navigated the wide groups of people with relative ease, looking for a sign of red hair and freckles. The noises coming from the campsite sounded terrible, but Emma continued on, further and further into the woods. She continued on the main pathway and let out an aggravated shout when she couldn't find _anyone_ she should be looking for. Even if she couldn't find the rest of the Weasleys, she hoped that she would have found one of the werewolves.

With a slight growl, Emma turned a different direction and down a different path. She quickly realized that she was going the wrong way when she found _no one_ around. The noises from the camp had dwindled down to nothing, and everything was relatively silent.

"Oh, good job, Emma," she muttered to herself. "Getting lost in the bloody woods by yourself like an idiot."

Emma wanted to scream out into the empty woods in frustration. She wasn't sure if she was angry with herself for falling or angrier that they all kept going without her. There was no way that at least one of them didn't notice. She extinguished her wand and closed her eyes for a few moments to try and give herself a chance to adjust to the darkness. Emma _hated_ the dark more than anything, but the moon was still bright overhead.

When she opened her eyes again, she tried to focus. Emma slowly started to walk in the direction she thought she came from, but then she heard a cracking noise and the rustling of bushes. She tried to scan the area as best as possible and crept towards where she heard the noise. It reminded her too much of Fenrir trailing her and Persephone in the woods, but Emma felt incredibly uneasy. Her heart was beating hard, and Emma held tight to her wand, prepared to attack if she needed.

She started to take another step, but then she was suddenly barreled into and thrown forward. Emma would have made a noise if she could, but too much happened at once. A hand was clamped hard over her mouth to keep her quiet, and her fall was buffered by strong arms holding her close. Panic flooded her system, and she twisted her head to look at who had a hold of her. The last person she ever expected was Fenrir, and his lips were pulled back into a snarl.

"Stay quiet," he growled in her ear, releasing his hold on her mouth. Emma didn't dare disobey, and she took a look around to see that they weren't alone, and the other werewolves were around. They were also laying low, and if the looks on some of their faces were of any indication, one of them had to have said something to Fenrir. It made Emma's stomach do a funny little flip that he had most likely come out for her, but she could feel his anger in the way he held her. She pressed her forehead to the ground – this was a nightmare.

There were great shouts and the sound of more running as Ministry wizards ran along the path, and Emma understood why they stayed low. They didn't want to be caught. When whatever threat they perceived had passed, they slowly rose one by one, and Fenrir hauled her up by the back of his coat. Fenrir's growl was deadly, and Emma squeaked. He was beyond angry with her.

"What would _possess_ you to go off on your own?" Fenrir growled, stalking forward as Emma scrambled back. Her back slammed into a tree and his hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing just enough to keep her where she was. It was a warning, more possessive than anything, but still left a bitter tang in Emma's mouth. He didn't _want_ to hurt her, but it didn't matter. This was the Fenrir that scared her, and she hated that it brought tears to her eyes. She knew this version of him lurked underneath the surface, but she thought that she would be safe from it.

"Are you aware of what could have happened if one of the Alphas wasn't looking out for you?" he growled at her, his face coming close to hers. "Are you aware that I was in the middle of doing something and had to come out just to find you?"

"I'm s-sorry!" Emma stammered out, meeting Fenrir's angry stare for one brief moment before looking away.

"Fen, leave her be," Eirwyn said. "She's had a rough go of it."

"She could have _died_ because of her stupidity!"

"She's still a pup, Fen," said someone else – Liekos, she was pretty sure.

"Fenrir, ordinarily I wouldn't go against your judgment, but I agree with Eirwyn," Raoul said. "There was an incident earlier today, and Emma's lapse in judgment shouldn't be held against her."

"An incident?" Fenrir ground out, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Raoul.

"With Jude."

That was enough for Fenrir to release his hold, and Emma took a shuddering breath, rubbing her neck anxiously. Fenrir shot Emma a look and stalked over to Raoul to hear what he had to say. There was a long moment where no one did anything, but then Fenrir returned to her, the muscle in his jaw jumping. His touch was much gentler as he lifted her chin to inspect her face.

"Fucker," Fenrir muttered. "You _stupid girl_ ," he said, pressing a tender kiss to Emma's forehead. "You _never_ go off on your own. I taught you that years ago!"

Fenrir was about to continue with his lecture when one of the other werewolves called out his name with a – "Look!"

Time seemed to stand still as Emma watched Fenrir look up at the sky until finally, Emma dared to turn and look herself.

It took her a moment to understand what they were all looking at, and then it hit her. Up high in the sky, reflected against the waning moon, was a skull with a massive serpent protruding from its mouth. Emma knew what it was, had heard the stories from Remus and seen the photos she showed her, but she couldn't believe it. Never in her life did she ever think she would ever witness seeing the Dark Mark in person, and she didn't want to know what that meant.

Emma took a look around at the other werewolves. Some looked nervous, one or two looked excited. And slowly, Emma turned her head to look at Fenrir, and his expression was grave. He looked down at her and pulled her into his side. It was like he had flipped a switch again, his hold on her protective more than possessive.

"The world's changing like I told you, Rabbit," he said quietly to her. "You're not going to want to be on the wrong side of the fight when it begins."

If only Emma had any idea of what she would be fighting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **to all of my late night readers, good night!**
> 
> werewolves. so many werewolves.
> 
> also come join us on discord. When everyone comes on to bash Jude it's fun.
> 
> **come find me on:**   
>  [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/mymoonyandstars)   
>  [facebook](https://www.facebook.com/mymoonyandstars)   
>  [the moonlit stars discord](https://discord.gg/DtrKMhaTHR)
> 
> [spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/r6xi6203vwza01epk6askwk15?si=t4wwYBERRymTJvw09FJG3Q)  
> 


	31. Decisions to be Made

It wound up being an extremely long night. Fenrir insisted that he take her back to the Moon's house right then and there, but Emma said she needed to tell _someone_ that she was leaving. Fenrir relented with an angry growl and gestured for one of the other Alphas to take her along. Unlike Fenrir, they weren't as well known, and there would be less of an issue. It explained why Eirwyn and Raoul slipped into the Ministry box without any scrutinization.

Raoul was the one who ultimately went with her in search of the Weasleys. The rest of the Alphas returned to the campsite – they would be leaving that night. It was too dangerous for them to be there with the extra Ministry workers arriving.

Having Raoul with her made the process of finding Fred, George, and Ginny a lot easier. The others still hadn't arrived, but it didn't matter. Emma explained that she was leaving 'with a friend' and to thank their father for her. She was genuinely appreciative that he took her in, even for a few hours, and felt terrible not being able to tell him herself. Emma decided she would try to find some fun Muggle object that Arthur might like and send it to him in thanks. It was the least she could do.

With that obligation out of the way, Raoul brought Emma back to Fenrir, who was pacing grumpily. Fenrir grabbed tight to Emma's arm, Raoul and Fenrir gave each other curt nods, and with a twist, they were gone.

Emma had no idea that Apparating with someone different would even feel different. She also didn't expect the wave of nausea that nearly made her sick when they landed back in her room at the Moon's.

She had to sit down on the edge of her mattress for a moment to try and calm her churning stomach, and then she shot Fenrir a dirty look. She threw her bag on the floor, ripped Fenrir's coat off of her shoulders, and angrily pulled off the clothes she threw on over her pajamas. With one more dirty look, Emma angrily got into her bed. Emma was glad that Figaro was with Sage on the other side of the house because Emma was angry at Fenrir.

Fenrir watched her from his sofa where he was lounging, cigarette hanging from his lips, his eyes narrowing. "What is your problem?" he snapped at her when Emma let out an aggravated huff and flipped onto her side so she wasn't facing him.

"I'm angry with you!" Emma said, growling slightly at the deep breath he took to try and tamp down his aggravation.

" _You're_ angry with _me_?" he snarled out. "I was busy and in the middle of doing something, _and I came out to find you_."

"You didn't have to!" Emma said, sitting up and glaring at Fenrir. "You could have kept doing whatever you were doing! Especially after playing an awful trick on me."

"I had to come to find you because you were _stupid_ ," Fenrir growled. "Even your father knows that you never go anywhere without a partner. And a trick? What bloody trick did I play on you?"

"You told me that I was going to see _one_ other Alpha!" Emma practically screeched. "I didn't know you were literally throwing me into werewolf territory! Multiple Alphas, Fenrir? Really? I wasn't aware that I would be meeting every single bloody werewolf pack leader in the country. That was unfair and incredibly cruel, and you know it."

"Cruel? And how was that cruel?"

"Because you know what it would do to me!"

The cigarette in Fenrir's mouth disappeared so quickly Emma had no idea what he did with it. In even less time, he was over the top of her in her bed, nose nearly touching hers.

"And what exactly did it do to you? What could I have done so wrong?"

"You took away my choice, Fenrir," Emma growled out. "You know that by making me go, that I wasn't going to have any other decision."

"You're angry with me because I introduced you to your peers? For just confirming the decision that I know you already made?"

"They're not my peers!" Emma bit out. "I'm not like you!"

It was the wrong thing to say, and Fenrir had no issue in showing his displeasure. His hand was wrapping around the front of her neck, and she was unceremoniously thrown back into the mattress. Just like in the woods, his hand was held on her neck, mostly in warning, but the raw tang of fear invaded her senses. She wrapped her hands around Fenrir's wrist in a silent pleading gesture to not squeeze any harder than he was. At least in the woods, there had been a slight distance between them. Here, where no one else could see them, the full weight of Fenrir's body pressed against hers holding her where she was. She saw the way Fenrir's eyes followed her tongue as it darted out to lick her lips.

"You're not like me?" Fenrir growled out. "Don't you dare start acting like your father – not now."

Emma immediately cowed, deflating considerably underneath Fenrir. "That's not what I mean," she said quietly. She swallowed hard and huffed out a soft breath. "I can't be what you want, even if…There's too much pressure for me to be what you told all of them. I'm nothing like what they think I am." Emma turned her head in a very rare show of baring her neck to Fenrir and hated the action. She was too tired to argue with Fenrir over it. "I'm sorry."

Fenrir's fingers slowly unfurled from Emma's neck. He brushed away the tears that had fallen with his thumb and dropped a kiss to her cheek before rolling off of her. He moved to the edge of her mattress, settling his elbows on his knees as he stared out the window. Emma didn't move from where she was.

"You're wrong," Fenrir said slowly. "You're already exactly what I want. I'm getting tired of you pretending that you're not good enough. You blatantly ignore the power that you have, and I don't understand why."

"Because I'm not…" Emma said quietly. She sat up slowly with a sniffle. "I'm just this weird fucked up little half-werewolf girl. I saw those other girls today – the ones that want to be your mate. I'm not like them."

"No, you're not," Fenrir said, looking over his shoulder at Emma. "You're better."

Emma shook her head and pulled her knees up to her chest, rubbing her wet face with her shirt. Some fights weren't worth having, especially in the middle of the night. She would talk to Fenrir about it when he wasn't in his mood.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Fenrir asked, rising to cross back over to the sofa.

"Yes," Emma said, huffing out a laugh. "I haven't had fun like that in such a long time. Thank you."

Fenrir grunted his response, pulling another cigarette out, presumably this time to actually smoke it. He didn't get far with the first one.

"And what of the other wolves? What did you think of them?"

"Far more welcoming than I thought they would be of me," Emma replied honestly. "I liked them. Especially the children."

"The pups are fun," Fenrir agreed. "I thought you would love them."

"Why didn't you tell me where I was actually going? And who was the Alpha I was meant to be dealing with? When you said Raoul, I thought he was going to be the Alpha."

"Technically, the Alpha was me. Raoul serves as my second and takes care of things in my absence, so therefore – another Alpha by association," Fenrir said with a slight smirk. He took a long drag from his cigarette. Emma had to bite back the desire to argue with Fenrir's logic, but he was in a mood. "But I did want you to meet Eirwyn, to show you that we have strong females in charge. She's been begging me to have another bitch in our ranks. I think she's sick of us."

"I liked her," Emma said quietly. "I liked all of them…"

"I knew you would."

The silence that settled was still tense but growing more comfortable. Emma slowly laid back down, turning on her side to stare out the window. She had far too much to think about and seemingly not enough time to do it. It scared her that seeing the other werewolves made things so much more real to her. They all had lives, had personalities, and had families. Emma was sure they were all on their best behavior with her around, but there was a sense of belonging. She could exist without worry – no one cared that she had scars on her face, half of them did. They all bore bite marks, even the smallest of children, which left an ache in Emma's chest. Even if they weren't equal in status, they were equal in what they were, even her.

Her curiosity and genuine questions had left them more welcoming of her. She wanted to understand, and though wary at first, they started to realize she didn't want to be ignorant of their lives. Emma wasn't just a witch off the street invading their territory; she was trying to learn what her future could be. At the end of the day, they were all just trying to get by as best as they could and survive. It was a feeling Emma understood well; it was what she had been trying to do all summer.

It had taken Emma some time to realize that Fenrir's intentions were two-fold by sending her into the werewolf camp. He wanted to dispel the rumors that she didn't actually exist, and he wanted her to learn what things could be like. It was a very filtered view, she knew that, but the concept was the same. The werewolves lived their lives in modified tents, gathering just as they had at the World Cup. It was no small wonder that the set up looked Muggle – it was meant to look Muggle on purpose. They thrived on blending in wherever possible, and the less magic was around, the better. Magic was mostly left to when the sky turned to dusk and the hours under the moon.

"Fenrir, I have two questions for you," Emma said, reaching over for Patches and Bee and pulling them close. She was glad that Fenrir never questioned her sleeping with stuffed animals. If he did, Emma thought she would probably die on the spot from embarrassment.

"What are your questions, Rabbit?"

At least Fenrir called her Rabbit. That was a decent enough sign for her to proceed with her questions.

"Is it all right if I call you Fen? I noticed that the other Alphas call you that…"

Fenrir snorted, and a small smile crossed his lips. "You're mine. I give you permission to call me whatever you'd like – even if it's a fucking bastard."

"Oh," Emma said in surprise. "Well, that's good to know because I've absolutely called you that several times."

"I'm sure," Fenrir chuckled. "And your other question?"

Emma hesitated for a moment and looked over at Fenrir. "What happened with your last mate?"

Fenrir froze, cigarette halfway back up to his lips. He turned his head to look at Emma, his free hand flexing in and out of a fist. "Why do you want to know?"

"Curiosity," Emma said quietly.

"That curiosity is going to wind up killing you one day."

"Not the first time I've heard that one," Emma replied. Remus had told her exactly that many times.

A sigh escaped Fenrir's lips, and he stood to cross over to the window seat. "She was killed in the early days of the war," Fenrir said, taking a long drag of the last of his cigarette and flicking the butt out the window. "Taken as a war prisoner, tortured, and killed. She was pregnant with my pups. Twins – they didn't survive."

Emma couldn't stop her surprised gasp and sat back up. She wished that she hadn't asked because she hadn't expected to hear that. No wonder Fenrir didn't take a mate again, and Emma suddenly had more questions. "I have another question," Emma said even more quietly, her voice just higher than a whisper.

"In a way, I loved her," Fenrir said, answering the question sitting on the tip of Emma's tongue. He looked over at her, and Emma was floored to see a hint of sadness in his face. "That's what you were going to ask me, wasn't it?" Emma gave a slight nod, and Fenrir hummed to himself. He looked back out the window, pulling a knee up to his chest.

"I don't love easily, if at all. I can't say that I've ever loved many. I'm not a good person; you already know that, and I'm not going to make you think otherwise. I don't want to be tied down and have that responsibility. I took her as my mate because she was a good fuck, and then she got pregnant. I think I loved her then. I certainly knew I loved the pups…"

"If you don't want to be tied down…then once again, I'm confused…"

"You're different," Fenrir said softly with a surprising amount of fondness. "I can say that I love you. Things are much different with you."

"One of these days you're going to have to explain what that means, Fen," Emma said quietly. "I don't understand."

"You will someday," Fenrir replied.

Emma nodded and slowly returned to the relative safety of her blankets. There wasn't anything else left to say, and Emma closed her eyes. If Fenrir came over to kiss the spot near her temple and whispered good night to her, Emma could pretend that it never happened. It was better that way.

The week went far quicker than Emma thought it would go. Sage had been speechless to find that Emma was back before the others and had paled considerably when Fenrir told her what happened. Her shock gave way to anger, and she had sent all of the house-elves away and started to clean the kitchen furiously. The World Cup incident was an even bigger deal than Emma thought and listened in absolute horror as Fenrir explained its purpose. Emma wished that he listened to Sage when she told him to stop, but Fenrir didn't listen. There were things Emma didn't need to know, and learning of Death Eater revels at seven in the morning was on that list.

Persephone, Caspian, and Elijah returned at around noon that day, but Ellis was nowhere in sight. Emma didn't entirely mind and hoped that meant Jude wouldn't be coming around either. Fenrir had received an owl from Raoul just before breakfast, and it seemed as though that would be the case, but he was staying just in case. Emma tried to get him to tell her exactly what Raoul had done, but Fenrir was tightlipped and dismissive. She eventually gave up and decided to just take the win.

Fenrir had surprised Emma by remembering she was meant to have a dance class that day. She was even more surprised when she admitted to wanting to go and his offer to take her as it meant going back to York. Emma insisted that she didn't need to go because it was supposed to be her last two classes, but he wasn't hearing it. After not joining her at any of her classes, it felt bizarre to have Fenrir stay, and she was in a near-perpetual fit of giggles. Her poor dance instructor was not expecting to see Fenrir after dealing with Remus. Though Fenrir passed decently as a Muggle, he was still terrifying.

Emma rejoined everyone for dinner and was silently pleased that both Jude and Ellis weren't there. Persephone was closed off, but Caspian and Elijah more than made up for it with their enthusiasm to have Emma there. It was a much quieter and a considerably calmer affair without both men there. The dinner conversation was finally polite without errant comments, and Emma found herself enjoying spending time with everyone.

The rest of the week went much the same, but Fenrir convinced Emma to explore the house. It seemed as though Jude and Ellis weren't going to make an appearance anytime soon, and Fenrir felt better about letting Emma out of his sight. She explored as much as she could, slipping in and out of rooms with curiosity. The library quickly became her favorite spot to be, and if Emma wasn't outside on her broom, that's where she could be found.

While outside on Thursday morning, Fenrir decided to try and teach her how to hone the magic she had from her wolfish side. She wanted to go out flying over the ocean, but learning a different type of magic seemed more fascinating.

It was meant to be a simple exercise, but Emma found it oddly complicated. How Fenrir expected her to turn a blade of grass into a flower without her wand, she had no idea. She would watch Fenrir try to walk her through the steps by showing her and then try, but nothing would happen.

"You're concentrating too hard," Fenrir said, crouching down next to her. "Here." He picked up a new blade of grass and replaced the one in her hands. He cupped his hands underneath hers, his fingers coming up around the tops of hers. Emma knew his hands were massive, but she had never realized just how large they were until then.

"Pull the magic up from the earth," he said, "pay attention to how my hands feel under yours. Try to match my magic."

Emma frowned slightly, trying to pay attention to what Fenrir was telling her. She had done this with Remus before when she struggled to make the blue flames wandlessly, but this was different. Or was it? She was sure that the flames were conjured from the air, but was it a different concept like she kept telling herself? It was magic that involved pulling from the elements, so she _knew_ how to do this. Fenrir was right; she was concentrating too hard.

Curious, Emma tried to pay attention to how Fenrir's magic felt. It was sure and steady like he was, perhaps with a slight air of cockiness. Fenrir's magic was confident, but Emma's was considerably less so, but getting there. She started to think she couldn't pull the magic she needed, but then she felt the slight buzz of magic held in her hands. It seemed to flow up through the earth, up through her feet, along her spine, and all the way to her hands. She had never felt magic quite like this before.

"Good," Fenrir said softly. "Try now."

She looked at Fenrir skeptically but tried to pull forth a little more magic. When the blade of grass turned into a small yellow daisy, Emma couldn't stop her excited squeal.

"Try again," Fenrir said, pulling his hands away and replacing the daisy with another blade of grass.

To Emma's absolute joy, she was able to transfigure the blade of grass into another daisy. Not quite believing she did it, she plucked another blade of grass, then two, then three, then four. Fenrir barked out a laugh at Emma's excitement.

"You're going to cover this entire field in flowers at the rate you're going," he laughed.

"Yes, but it's worth it!" Emma chirped, pouting slightly when Fenrir grabbed her hands to stop her from grabbing another blade of grass.

"And you need to save your strength. You need to ease into it," Fenrir said with a proud smile. "You have much to learn and plenty of time to learn it."

When Friday arrived, Emma was considerably more excited than on Monday. She was so excited that time seemed to move slower and slower. No amount of waiting for five o'clock could make time move faster. She didn't even care that she was supposed to be sitting with Dr. Wheeler for an hour before she could go home; all that mattered to her was the end result.

"Staring at the clock will not make time move any faster," Fenrir pointed out during their time in the library. Often if Emma was there, Fenrir was as well. It was terribly domestic and strange to be reading so close to Fenrir, but he was quiet, and Emma learned a quiet Fenrir was a safe Fenrir. Even if he was scheming and making plans in his head, Emma wasn't subjected to his thoughts, making all the difference in the world.

She had huffed in response from where she was lying on the floor. Emma attempted to try and return to reading her book, but her eyes kept darting over to the clock over the fireplace mantel. Time was moving far too slow.

Emma was packing her things when she looked at the ring on her finger. She hadn't taken it off since her unintentional mishap in the bath but pulled it off when Fenrir stepped into the room.

"Here," Emma said, holding his ring out for him to take. "I suppose you should have this back now."

"It's yours," he said, closing her fingers around the ring. "You won't need it around your father, but it might help when you're at school."

Emma wanted to question Fenrir about it, but he took a quick look at what she was doing and stepped back out. He wouldn't interrupt her packing, but he would certainly check it before she left. She would have to ask Remus what the ring's purpose was, especially if Fenrir was having her keep it.

Finally, finally, _finally_ it was time for her to leave. Emma hated the idea of leaving Figaro for a few days, but she made Persephone promise to take care of her. She had a sneaking suspicion that Fenrir would come to check on Figaro, but she didn't dare voice that thought. When it was time to head to St. Mungo's for her appointment with Dr. Wheeler, Emma practically ran to the fireplace. She bid very hasty farewells, grabbed a handful of Floo powder, and off she went.

Her appointment with Dr. Wheeler went exactly how she thought it would. It was awkward and uncomfortable. It wasn't easy to explain the situation with Fenrir and how she was starting to feel that she understood things better. Her feelings were complicated, but the more information she learned, the easier it was to separate her feelings. She knew that she didn't love Fenrir, but she loved the idea of what he once was to her. The more time she spent with Fenrir, the more she could appreciate certain aspects of his personality.

Emma didn't necessarily want affection from Fenrir, but she wasn't entirely opposed to his praise. She was glad that they had reached a point of respect and that he was honest with her. She hated that he could switch from a decent person to overbearing to downright terrifying at the drop of a hat. She despised how domineering he could be, and his possessiveness, and how she had to walk on eggshells around him. However, his honesty was often needed, and as long as she was willing to learn, he was willing to teach. There was a clear power dynamic at play, and Emma knew that, but Fenrir could be played like a game of chess if one studied him long enough.

She couldn't help but question how useful therapy would be when Dr. Wheeler tried to bring up very Muggle ways of dealing with her situation. There was absolutely nothing Muggle about coping with the most savage werewolf of all time. She would have to bring it up to Remus and wasn't entirely looking forward to that conversation.

"You keep looking at the clock," Dr. Wheeler said as they approached the end of their session.

Emma couldn't hide her blush. "I'm just really ready to go home," she said. "Really, really ready to go home."

Dr. Wheeler gave Emma a knowing smile and looked down at her watch. "Well, knowing your father, he was here at least ten minutes ago. We'll end things here, and we'll pick up next week when you're at school. _Go home_."

Emma was more than happy to do exactly that.

She scrambled up from her chair, gathering her things, and practically sprinted out of the room. Remus was idly looking at a poster down the hallway, and he turned to look at her. Emma had never felt more at home just from the smile he gave her. She squealed with pure joy and made a running leap into Remus's arms. Emma laughed, knowing that Remus had finally learned to brace himself around her so that he didn't fall. She clung tight to him like a monkey, wrapping herself around him as tightly as she could.

"I guess that means you missed me," Remus chuckled, holding Emma in his arms.

"Don't be stupid," Emma muttered, burying her face in his neck. "Of course, I missed you."

She was happy. So incredibly, stomach full of butterflies, brain full of giddy thoughts happy. Eleven days was far too long and felt like an eternity. She wasn't sure if her tears were from happiness or from being so incredibly overwhelmed by emotion; all she knew was that she couldn't stop them.

"Oh, fy nghariad, don't cry," Remus whispered, uttering soft shushing noises as he rubbed Emma's back.

"Y-you would cry t-too if your only c-company was F-Fenrir for almost two weeks!" Emma managed to choke out, and to her relief, Remus laughed.

"I did cry about that when he was my only company, actually," he said, kissing Emma's cheek when she let out a watery giggle. "Oh, you poor thing. But guess what, baby girl? We're going home, and you're safe. I'm just so relieved that you weren't hurt."

Emma immediately tensed up in Remus's arms, and she leaned back just enough to meet his confused expression. "That's not entirely true," she reluctantly admitted, finally disentangling herself and dropping to the floor. "I didn't tell you everything because I didn't want you to worry."

Remus reached up to take Emma's face between his hands, brushing away her tears with his thumbs and sighing. "All right," he said. "Let's go home, and we'll talk over dinner. How does takeaway sound for tonight?"

Getting takeaway was the better idea as Remus was not in the right shape to cook after Emma started to tell him everything. He never let Moony try and break free, but Emma saw the flashes of the wolf across his face. He wasn't angry at her, not entirely, but there was a definite aggravation with her that sat underneath the surface. And to think she had only told him about what happened the previous weekend…

"I just don't understand why you didn't tell me!" Remus snapped, taking several deep breaths to try and calm himself. " _He could have killed you_."

"I know," Emma said quietly. "I know he could have, but…Jude's too afraid to do anything when Fenrir's around. And with Fenrir, it's not like I asked him to stay. I tried to make him leave, so it's not like him being around is my fault."

"I never thought I'd say I'd prefer him being around you in my life. If I can't be there, at least you're…mostly safe," Remus said bitterly, crossing his arms. His brows knit close together, and he ran his tongue over his teeth. "Emma, you should have told me when it happened."

"And what could you realistically have done? Even if you said something, my word is as useless as yours at this point. You couldn't have done a thing, and I wasn't about to make you worried just before the full. Wolfsbane or not, I know you would have struggled more with Moony if you were worried about me."

Remus took another deep breath. "Emma Hope, for the love of God, please tell me there isn't more that you didn't tell me."

The giggling Emma did was nervous and helpless, and Remus's face fell. By the time Emma managed to finish telling him about her side of things at the World Cup, his face was blank. Moony had made a brief appearance when Emma brought Jude up again, which she expected. Remus then looked resigned when she mentioned the other werewolves.

"I want to talk more about the whole werewolf thing, but not tonight," Emma said quietly. "Probably not tomorrow, well maybe tomorrow…Either way, I want to talk about it before I leave. Right now, I just really want to forget about everything."

The amount of cuddling that happened after dinner could probably be considered illegal, but Emma relished in it. She had missed being with her father and had already started to forget what it was like to be loved so unconditionally. It was nice to be held close and to have Remus pour every ounce of love he had for her into his hugs. Her father equated to home, and Emma repeated it like a mantra in her head repeatedly. For once, Emma's thoughts and Soleil's were the same. She was _homehomehomehomehome._

She took for granted the simplicity of being able to be around someone with absolutely no expectations. Emma missed the simplicity of being curled up under Remus's arm on the couch. She missed the way his hand would come up to run through her hair, and he would press kisses to the top of her head just because. All of the anxious little parts of her mind were momentarily soothed. Eleven days was far too long.

Her gratitude towards her father only increased the next morning. Emma felt ridiculous waking up far too early, but she didn't need to explain why she was up. Remus, who was routinely up early in the morning, gave her a soft smile in understanding from his seat at the table. He pulled a grumbling Emma into the kitchen and sat her down at the table, chuckling as she rested her forehead on the table.

"It really ruins the myth that werewolves are entirely nocturnal, doesn't it?" Remus said, setting a cup of tea down in front of Emma.

"He's like a bloody drill sergeant," Emma muttered, pulling her mug close and taking a long sip with an appreciative hum. She missed Remus making her tea. "Get up, Lupin. It's late, Lupin. You have things to do, Lupin," Emma grumbled, running a hand over her tired eyes. "I don't understand why six in the morning is an appropriate time to get up."

"Because it's around the time the hunting party returns," Remus said. "Head out around three in the morning, come back by six or seven. Then you have a nap around the afternoon."

Emma shot Remus a glare. "That's shit."

"That's life in the pack."

" _That's shit_ ," Emma repeated. Remus gave her a sad smile, and she sighed, running her finger along the edge of the cup. "I didn't want to talk about any of this right now…"

"I think we should," Remus said softly. "We're notorious for pushing conversations off until it eats away at us. You're growing up…I think it's time we should probably stop doing that."

"Possibly," Emma said dryly.

"So, what's bothering you, then? I know you have your concerns after meeting the others."

"All of it, really. I didn't realize there were so many werewolves," Emma said quietly. "I mean, I knew there were a lot, but to be in one spot with so many…I wasn't expecting to feel like I fit in."

"It's a surprising feeling," Remus admitted. "I was terrified the first time I went to the packs. It's a culture shock."

"I figured as much," Emma replied, taking a drink of her tea. "I know that wasn't even half of it because it was all of the different packs coming together, but it's different."

"And what did you think?"

"I think that if that's ultimately where I had to be, I could find happiness," Emma admitted. "It wouldn't be easy, I know that, but in a sick way, I've almost lived in. The only benefit I had was modern luxuries, but I've always preferred my own imagination."

"You do have a very active imagination," Remus agreed. "But you know it's difficult, yes? Werewolf culture is much different than wizarding culture."

"I've spent day and night with Fenrir," Emma huffed. "I think if I can survive that, then I could handle the rest."

"Fenrir is on his best behavior with you, though, love. He's violent, and just because he hasn't shown you that side of him lately –"

"Daddy, think about that for a minute," Emma said, pointing to her face. "Regardless of whether or not he had an aggravatingly logical reason for this, it's not as though I haven't seen how Fenrir can be. I'm one of his victims, too."

"But that's only a fraction of how he really is."

"Realistically, what is he going to do to me that he hasn't already done? Other than killing me, which he's made clear he's not interested in, there's not much he can do."

"I just can't stand the idea of you being hurt."

"Well…if you're worried about that, Jude's the issue," Emma scoffed. "Fenrir's a brute, but compared to what Jude's done to me, he's been mild. Jude's mission is clearly to make me as miserable as possible. Fenrir at least has an incentive to keep me around."

"That terrifies me," Remus said quietly. He dipped his finger into his tea and frowned, pushing it aside. "All of this terrifies me because I don't know what's going to happen. Once again, I feel useless because I can't do a thing for you, not without the threat of Azkaban."

"You're doing what you can," Emma said quickly. "You're here for me when I need you, and I think that's much more important right now. I just…I know what's coming up."

"Because Fenrir wants your decision."

Emma nodded, peering out the window for a moment. "It scares me because I know he's going to ask me what I want to do, where I'll put my loyalty," Emma said quietly. "And I don't know what to do. When I met the other werewolves, I realized that I could do something. When I met the werewolves from Fenrir's pack specifically, it hit me hard just how real all of this really is. And then when I saw the children... Daddy, they're so small. They're not just figments of my imagination. They're actually real."

"I know," Remus said gently. "It's…it's all they know. They're brought into the pack, and that's their life. They don't know anything outside of it."

"On the one hand, I don't want to interrupt that because they're happy because they don't know better." Emma took a long sip of her tea, thinking for a moment.

"But there's a whole different world for them to be a part of." Emma frowned and looked up at Remus with the realization of just how difficult what she wanted to achieve would be. With laws as they currently were, no one would hire her when she graduated. She suddenly felt just as resigned as her father to what her life would be. "But I can't even say that life is any better outside of the pack, either. Not with how things are."

"No, unfortunately, you can't," Remus admitted. He took a look around the kitchen and shook his head. "We're fortunate that we have as much as we do. If I didn't own the house well before everything happened, they could have taken this away, too."

"Is that part of why you and Papa decided to renovate?"

"Yes and no. I knew that I wanted a bigger space for you," Remus said, giving Emma a soft smile. "You very rarely complain, and you've certainly never complained about your room, but you deserve more. I want to be able to give you more, and this is where you're happiest. If I can make things just a little bit better for you, I'll do it."

"You're absolutely mental, did you know that?"

"I'm not mental. It's because I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you, too," Emma whispered. "And that's why I hate all of this. I'm tired of being scared all the time. Every day I have had to sit and weigh the costs of every decision I make, which scares me. I feel like I've had to grow up so quickly this summer, and that's fine, it really is, but it's not fair.

"It's not fair that I can't be with you. It's not fair how people treat you – treat us…I almost wish that we could go back to the time when we thought Fenrir was our biggest problem. He's still a problem, but it's not the same problem anymore." Emma took in a deep, shuddering breath. "And I'm scared because I don't want to make the wrong move."

Remus sighed, reaching out to take Emma's hand. He rubbed her knuckles with his thumb, thinking hard.

"What makes you feel like you need to join the pack?"

Emma lifted her gaze to meet Remus's with a frown. "You knew?"

"You're my daughter," Remus said with a slightly watery chuckle. "Of course, I knew."

Emma pulled her lower lip between her teeth, searching Remus's eyes. Of course he would know that she had a decision in mind. He seemed to anticipate her thoughts well before she ever did.

"I want to make a difference," Emma said quietly. "Anything I want to do, I can start in the pack. It's not like I'll ever be able to get a normal job now, anyway. Though Fenrir's been a right pain in the arse about me getting my education regardless. I think I can convince him to wait. That's the only reason I managed to get out of him turning me this month. As long as that's one of my bargaining chips, I won't actually have to _go_ to the pack."

"But for how long? Emma, it's Greyback," Remus said sharply. "He doesn't do anything for anyone unless he's getting something out of it. What about when he decides he doesn't want to wait any longer?"

"I know," Emma said gravely. "I know what's at stake. I'm going into this with the hopes that he's waited long enough that it doesn't matter. If not…There's no use in worrying about something that hasn't happened yet."

Remus gave a small nod in agreement. They had both been plenty guilty of worrying about things that hadn't happened yet, and at that point, it seemed there wasn't much to fear. All of the little nightmares they had already happened. Remus had been outed as a werewolf, Emma was attacked by Fenrir, and Jude was a threat. They were in a living nightmare, and there was no use in denying that small truth.

"Dad, I need you to promise me one thing," Emma said, twisting her hand so she could lace her fingers with Remus's. "I know we've had the discussion before, but please…I need you to promise me –"

"Emma, I can't be the one to turn you," Remus said, squeezing Emma's hand. "I can't do that to you –"

"What does it matter anymore, Dad? Your blood literally runs through mine; a third bite isn't going to make a difference except finish things."

"Because I don't want to be responsible for killing you!"

"So you'd let Fenrir be the one to do it? With or without the Wolfsbane, I know I can trust you with my life. You won't kill me. Moony sees me as his pup; I'm your daughter – you are the safest option."

A deep frown crossed Remus's face. "Emma, I can't…"

"You can," Emma said earnestly. She pulled her hand from Remus's, curling in on herself. "You can, and when that time comes, you will because I need you to. Please. I'm not asking you to do it next month, and I'm not asking you to do it anytime soon. I'm just asking that when it comes time, it'll be you. I will never ask another thing of you again if you do that one thing for me."

"If there comes a time," Remus said, attempting to correct Emma's phrasing. He ran his hands down his face, his brows knitting together. "You're never going to be in a position where that'll happen."

"Well, all right, but then please just think about it. For me," Emma said. "For _if_ I get in that position where it'll happen."

As was wont to do for the Lupins during difficult conversations, silence fell between the two. Some things would never change, and though they had become comfortable with being more open with each other, they were both stubborn. It wouldn't be the last time they would have the conversation, but they said what they needed for the time being.

"What would you like for breakfast?" Remus asked, clearing his throat. "We might have to go get groceries as I haven't gone out, but I'll make anything you'd like." A small smile crossed Emma's face, and Remus stood, giving her a knowing smile in return. She didn't even have to tell him what she wanted.

"And this is why I always keep bacon in the house," he said, bending down to kiss the top of Emma's head. "Two bacon buttys it is."

Emma felt like she needed to be outside the very moment the sky grew dark. The summer air was starting to cool considerably, anticipating September's arrival. The last of the summer's fireflies floated lazily in the backyard, leaving glowing trails in their wake. After spending so much time indoors all summer, being outside felt like a luxury. Being outside felt like freedom. The cool air touching her skin was blissful, gentle, and soft. The grass beneath her bare feet was a cosmic reminder that she existed, that she had a place in the world. Whether or not people wanted her there, she lived, and she lived out of pure spite. She lived because she wanted to prove that she was worth something, could make a difference.

It seemed ridiculous that at different times, she could relate to her fathers. It was even worse when all of their experiences collided into one. All three of them were prisoners in their own ways, both by the law and their own thoughts. Remus was a prisoner to his lycanthropy, Sirius, ironically, from his escape from Azkaban, and Emma was stuck somewhere in the middle. None of them knew what to do; nothing was definitive.

Every day, Emma felt as though she had to question every single one of her morals. All of the things she thought were right were suddenly wrong. The things she was once against were the things she needed to latch onto to survive. Emma wasn't the same person she was when she was eleven, but she certainly didn't expect to be the person she was at nearly fifteen. She swore that she felt at least 25, not fifteen. Emma huffed out a small laugh – according to her lycanthropy, she essentially was. Maybe that was why she felt so old.

She sat down on the ground and set her mug down next to her. Letting out a long breath, Emma laid back on the grass, staring up at the sky. Her gaze drifted from the waning moon to the brightest star in the sky. Somewhere on the opposite side of the world, even she could be found in the sky, and she gently touched her necklaces. _Pack._

It felt like the longest summer of her life, and it still wasn't over. There were still five more days until she would return to Hogwarts, and she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to. She knew it was expected of her and that it was her safest option, but Emma was worried. Things could go wrong so quickly.

A movement to her right drew her attention away from the sky, and Emma gave Remus a half-smile as he laid down next to her. She shifted herself closer to rest her head on his arm and let out a quiet laugh when he slipped his arm underneath her shoulders to pull her close. This was the exact thing that Emma needed, and she happily rested her head on his shoulder. She had been wanting to do this nearly every night with her father, just being in each other's company and watching the stars. Their family was the galaxy; the universe was for them and them alone.

"Is it terrible that I'm glad that it's just us?" Emma asked quietly, ignoring the sudden tightness of her chest. "I feel like I've spent time with everyone else alone except for you. It was nice to experience being a 'normal' family, but…"

"It's just been you and I for a long time," Remus finished for her. He kissed the top of her head. "It's nice to not have to share you for a little bit."

"I have a confession to make that surprisingly isn't related to anything wolfish," Emma whispered after a while. "But I'm afraid it's going to make me sound really selfish."

"What is it, love? You can tell me anything, you know that."

"When everything is all figured out, I don't want Harry to live with us," Emma said after a long pause. "I know…I know he deserves to have a family that isn't terrible, but I really just want you and Papa to myself…"

"I had a feeling you were going to say that," Remus said with a sigh. "Do you want to know a secret? I have my concerns over having Harry with us, as well."

Emma turned her head to look at Remus in surprise. "Really?"

"Really. I care for Harry, of course, but I don't know if it's a good idea," Remus admitted. "Sirius and I always talked about having two children, but that was just a dream. Having one seemed like such an impossibility that two was going to be nothing short of a miracle. I just think with our situation it's going to be a challenge. If Sirius thought things were hard when it was the three of us, it'd be much harder with four."

"It's because I'm difficult, isn't it?"

"No, not at all, fy nghariad," Remus said earnestly. "It's because I don't know that I have enough time to devote to everyone. You are my priority – you are my daughter, and you are always going to come first."

"But it's important to Papa to have Harry…"

"Sirius and James were very close, and I think Sirius harbors a lot of survivor's guilt. He wants to make up for what Harry should have received growing up," Remus said, smoothing back Emma's hair.

"The way I look at it, Harry's very independent – not that you aren't, but you're both independent in different ways," Remus added at Emma's look. "You two have grown up with completely different circumstances. I have a feeling that when he's of age, he's going to want to go off on his own. You're going to want to stay home for a little longer. That's not a bad thing, not in the least, please don't think otherwise. I can't say I'm too upset by the idea because I love having you around, but you already know that." Remus reached over to run his finger down the bridge of Emma's nose with a fond smile.

Emma wanted to argue that and say she would go off on her own when she was of age, but she knew that was a complete lie. She didn't want to stay home forever, but she definitely wanted to stay home for as long as she could. There was a lot of time to make up for.

"What if I want to stay home _forever_?" Emma asked jokingly. She turned on her side to look at Remus better, her eyes glittering.

"Doesn't change a thing – I would love to have you home," Remus smiled, bending his head to kiss the tip of Emma's nose. "But someday, you're going to want to leave. I'm going to hate every moment of it, but I know you need to start your life and conquer all of those beautiful dreams of yours. You'll find someone else to give your love to. You'll get married, start a family…and I'll be here to support you in every decision you make."

"What if I fall in love with another werewolf," Emma continued to joke. "Would make things interesting."

"I don't see you with another werewolf," Remus laughed. "I'm sure you see the appeal of it, but I don't see that happening." His brow furrowed slightly as he looked over at Emma. "This isn't you trying to tell me that you fancy Boris, is it?"

Emma groaned, turning her face into Remus's chest. "Ugh, no. Not Boris! He's too energetic for me," Emma said.

"And George isn't?"

"George is different," Emma insisted. "And I still haven't decided what to do with that other than to try and ignore the obvious. It's not like anyone knows, and if it's apparently so normal, well…when in Rome." Emma began to giggle and shook her head. "I can't even believe I just said that. But, in a perfect world, what sort of person do you see me with?"

"Oh, Merlin. Well, quite honestly, I try _not_ to think about it," Remus said pointedly, drawing another giggle from Emma. "But, if I had to pick the perfect person for you, they would be someone who takes the time to understand you. They would need to be someone who knows when you need a push in the right direction and when to let you figure out things on your own. They'll be intelligent - very intelligent with a sense of humor to match your own, dark jokes that I hate and all. I don't think you would be happy if they didn't like to read, so that's a must. Maybe Muggle-born because I know you want to keep that connection, but I can't see you with a Muggle. You've too much magic in you to be with a Muggle. Perhaps half-blood with strong roots in the Muggle world would be most accurate."

"For someone who said they try not to think about who I'll end up with, you have quite a lot of thoughts," Emma said, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh, and I'm still not done," Remus grinned. "They'll be someone who makes little comments that drive other people mental just like you do," Remus added, tickling Emma's side with a playful growl. He sighed and kissed Emma's forehead as her giggles melted away into the quiet night. "I think that they'll be stubborn – they'll have to be to handle you. They'll be someone willing to challenge you, but not maliciously. I think that they are going to have to be someone on the calmer side and very empathetic. They'll know that you love dancing in the kitchen in the mornings while waiting for breakfast and need music playing at almost all times. Whoever you're with is going to be your best friend, not just in life, but in love."

"I highly doubt that this sort of person exists," Emma mused.

"Well, a father can dream that only the best exists for their daughter," Remus said. "And I want nothing but the absolute best for you."

Emma let out a soft sigh, getting herself comfortable. There was nowhere else she wanted to be than right where she was.

"Daddy, does it ever bother you that I'm…okay with what I am?"

"No," Remus after a long pause. "No, it doesn't bother me. I'm happy that you can find acceptance with it. I'm a bit jealous, honestly."

"Jealous? Why?"

"Because you didn't have to grow up hearing how terrible we are. Your viewpoints on the world aren't so black and white, while that's how I grew up. You didn't grow up being ashamed of what you are, and most times, you're very unapologetic about who you are. You can find it in yourself to accept most things easily, and I love that about you. Your issue is that you worry too much about what other people think. I wish I could be more like you sometimes."

"I just don't want to hurt anyone…especially you," Emma murmured. "I've hurt you enough."

Remus turned on his side to face Emma and pulled his arm out from underneath her to prop himself up on his elbow. He reached out to cup Emma's face, brushing his thumb over her cheek. He gently traced the scar that was there, a slight frown crossing his face as he did.

"And I am telling you that there is nothing you can ever do that will make me stop loving you," Remus said firmly. "Do I like what's happening right now? Of course not. What sort of father would I be if I were somehow happy with how your life has been? My God, no parent wants their child to be anywhere near Greyback, and yet…"

"Well, nothing about our family has been normal, has it?"

"No, no, it really hasn't. But at least we have each other, yeah?"

There were three things that Emma knew for certain right that moment.

The first was that she was terrified. Her entire world had been flipped upside down and that everything was changing. She didn't enjoy the idea of Fenrir being correct and that another war could be looming on the horizon. Remus's tone was worried when they spoke of the World Cup and echoed similar thoughts. Even if a wizarding war wasn't going to take place, she was still in a battle of her own. It wasn't something that she wanted to be a part of, but it was quickly becoming her reality. Emma just wanted to sit somewhere in the middle of everything, but it seemed like each side was fighting for her. She was the daughter of two men who fought for the light, but she was raised by a man who thrived in the dark.

The second thing she knew was that she wanted to live. The idea of death seemed like such an escape, but she had finally found purpose. She wanted to be selfish and live her life the way that she wanted to. There were so many things that she wanted to do, and she wasn't about to be held down. Emma wanted to make a difference in the world and had seen first-hand what she could do for the first time in her life. Her goals weren't just for her anymore, they were for others, and if no one else was going to step in, she wanted to be that person. No one's life should be dictated by anyone other than themselves just because of something they had no choice over.

The third thing Emma knew with every fiber of her being was that she would do absolutely anything for her family. Emma couldn't imagine not having Remus in her life, and she couldn't imagine not having Sirius again. They were what mattered to her, and she would do anything to bring them all back together. Even Elara had become an essential part of their strange little family. Perhaps one day, she could finally learn to love Harry unconditionally like the others, and her little pack could grow.

Emma snuggled up as close as she could to her father. She had some tough decisions to make and soon. For the moment, she would push that all aside and take advantage of every moment she had left with her father. The clock was ticking fast, and Emma feared the day that clock finally stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tooooo all of my lovely late night readers, go to bed! Good night! :3
> 
> Also, please come join the Discord. We're a smaaaallllll group, but when there's discussions it's fun! :D
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	32. The Corruption of Emma Lupin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **tw:** mild Jude/mild Ellis/mild Fenrir warning (we're just stacking up the warnings here oops)

Merlin, leaving Remus was difficult. He promised he would be at King's Cross to see her off no matter what, but that didn't help her in the least. She was grateful that it was Tonks who came to pick her up Monday morning because she didn't rush Emma at all. Emma wanted to drink in every last bit of love from her father she could get. Even though she would be seeing him in a few days, Remus couldn't say when they would see each other next.

No one was there to greet her when Tonks Apparated her back to the Moon household. Emma had no idea why she thought any different. The door was open for her, and Emma made her way to her room, hoping that she wouldn't run into anyone. She kept her head low, trying to keep her tears as quiet as possible as she made her way up the stairs. When no one crept into the hallway, Emma thought she would make it through the final stretch and could be left alone. If only she was so lucky.

She turned the corner of her open doorway and froze immediately, meeting Fenrir's gaze from across the room. It appeared he had decided to return from his time with the pack earlier than Emma expected. He straightened up slightly in his chair at the table as he looked at her, his eyes narrowing slightly. For a moment, she thought he might have just arrived himself, but his naked torso and his shirt draped over a chair said otherwise. He must have arrived the night before as Figaro was lounging close to Fenrir like she usually was when he was around. They stared at each other for a moment until Emma finally looked away, wiping at her wet eyes.

"Heading out or staying in?" Emma forced out around the lump in her throat.

"In," Fenrir responded, and Emma closed the door behind her.

Emma dropped her bag by the door and sat at the edge of her mattress, facing away from Fenrir. She wasn't ready to deal with him yet, and she hated crying around him.

"Come here," he said, his tone aggravatingly soft.

She despised it when he took a soft tone with her because it could shatter her spectacularly. It left her with a gaping hole in her chest at the reminder that everything was wrong, and Fenrir was the last person to be seeking comfort from. She wanted Remus, whose soft words held meaning and could keep all her fears at bay. Emma wanted to be held close and listen to the cadence of her father's voice through his chest as he promised her things would be all right. She didn't want to listen to Fenrir's perpetually gravelly voice that always rumbled with his growl that never stopped. Still, Emma obeyed, reluctantly getting back up to face him. He moved over to the sofa, grabbing his guitar, and he pat the spot next to him. Emma didn't want to sit next to him, but she went anyway. It was safer.

"Lie down. Relax," he said, patting his knee, and Emma suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Fenrir chuckled when he realized just how determined Emma was to keep as much distance as she could from him while still following his orders. She just barely rested her head on his knee, turning on her side and crossing her arms grumpily. Technically he couldn't find fault in what Emma did because she did exactly as he requested. He ran a hand down the back of her head before lifting his guitar to his other knee to start to play.

Most days, Fenrir would freestyle whatever he played, but he would play songs that Emma was familiar with on others. Apparently, Bob Dylan was the artist of choice for the day, and Emma wasn't opposed. The longer Fenrir played, the more Emma gave in and relaxed. She resettled herself on the couch, dropping her head in his lap with an annoyed huff and curling up. It felt like a cruel and unusual punishment that she could feel so comfortable listening to Fenrir playing guitar that she could fall asleep. She wouldn't because that was too much, but her eyes were betraying her and closing.

This would be one of those moments that occurred that they would never speak of again, a fleeting moment that would drift off in the breeze. Emma felt she had a lot of those moments with Fenrir. It made it easier for her to forget.

Emma forced herself back up when she felt herself getting too comfortable. She felt Fenrir's eyes follow her as she made her way back over to her bag to start unpacking. A part of her debated whether or not to start putting things into her trunk, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Not yet, at least, and certainly not while Fenrir was watching her so closely.

"How was your time home?" Fenrir asked, still continuing to play.

Educational was what Emma wanted to say, but she refrained. They had spent the entirety of Sunday discussing things, and Emma thought she had made her decision, but Remus worried her. Fenrir's violence was disturbing, and Remus didn't hold back in telling her just how ruthless the werewolf could be. He was holding back with her, most likely because of her size, but if she thought Jude was bad, Fenrir could be worse. She didn't even consider the idea that the other two girls would want to fight her for Fenrir's affection – literally. And those were just the two girls that she knew about; there would be more, and not only in Fenrir's pack. Fenrir had all the power, and others would want to kill her for her place.

That terrified Emma more than anything. She had more enemies than she thought and hadn't even done anything other than exist. Emma had questioned every final decision she had made until she brought up Fenrir's ring. She had nearly forgotten about it until Remus mentioned that unless a marriage type bonding took place, something neither of them would allow, she was fair game.

"What does this mean, though?" Emma had asked, returning to the living room after grabbing the ring from her bag.

Remus stared at Emma in confusion before slowly taking the ring from her hand to inspect it. His brows slowly knit closer and closer together as he looked at it. "He gave you this?" Remus asked, holding the ring up. "You didn't take it from him?"

"No, I'm trying to survive here," Emma huffed out. "I've apparently got enough of a death wish without stealing from Fenrir. I learned my lesson after destroying the coat."

Remus frowned at that and shook his head – he didn't want to know. "This ring ties his magic to yours," Remus explained. "It helps to stabilize a werewolf's magic, makes the full moons a little easier because there's power to draw from. Consider it a magical power reserve for werewolves."

"So Fenrir essentially forced me into a marriage with him? He can essentially steal my magic from me?"

"No, you misunderstand," Remus said, depositing the ring into Emma's hand. "He tied _his_ magic to _yours_. He can't access yours unless you gave him a similarly formed token, but if you're wearing that, you can draw from his. Emma, I have no idea what his plans are with you, but whatever they are, he's serious about them. He's had that ring since before I was even in the pack."

Beneath everything Remus was telling her, Emma understood that having Fenrir's ring meant that he trusted her. Magic was delicate and volatile, werewolf or not, and he was trying to make things easier for her. He wouldn't ever admit to trusting her, but it was an admission from Fenrir all the same. Remus was equal parts amazed and horrified.

"You need to be very careful with that," Remus said. "As long as he allows you to have that, he won't hurt you severely. Hurting you means hurting himself as he's affecting his own magic. Emma, whatever you do, don't do anything that will put you in danger."

Fenrir had practically given her a weapon against himself as long as she was wearing it. To make it seem as though she had no idea, Emma decided she wouldn't put it back on unless Fenrir mentioned it. She learned quick with Fenrir – she rarely made the same mistakes twice with him.

"It wasn't enough time," Emma finally decided to say. It was a safe option, and it was true. If Fenrir felt the need to try and find deception, he would find none.

"It wasn't," he agreed, continuing to play, whatever song he was playing shifting into _Knockin' on Heaven's Door_.

"Going for dramatic today, eh, Fen?" Emma asked, unable to stop her grin. Fenrir gave a slight shrug, but Emma didn't miss the start of his grin in return. He genuinely wasn't terrible when he was like this, with his horrendous sense of humor and need to be a menace. It made Emma genuinely wonder what changed in Fenrir to make him the monster that he was underneath the surface. "So glad you feel the need to make fun of my sorrow."

"I'm not making fun of your grief," Fenrir said with a slight edge to his voice. "It's funny because we're wolves and considered one of the darkest of creatures. Besides, we're all going to Hell anyway."

Emma genuinely had to stop unpacking to shoot Fenrir a look. "Jesus Christ, Fen, really?" she said, her brows lifting. "You said you're not superstitious, and yet you believe in the concept of Hell? Starting to question that whole pure-blood thing. Bit too Muggle, isn't it?"

"Well, it's a good thing I'm a werewolf and not a pure-blood, then."

"Except for when you feel like pretending to be a pure-blood wizard, of course."

Fenrir's face split into his wolfish smile, all sharp teeth and twisted. "Anything for you, Rabbit," he purred.

Emma wanted nothing more than to punch Fenrir right in the face. However, she had no desire to have his hand wrapped around her throat like the figurative collar he seemed so determined to put on her. Perhaps he would try to make it literal…that would be a miserable day, indeed.

"Was the pack happy to have you back for a few days?" Emma asked conversationally, picking Figaro up for a cuddle when the cat finally decided to say hello. She looked up at Fenrir when he didn't immediately answer, and Emma couldn't decipher his expression. "What?"

"They've been asking for you," Fenrir replied. "It appears that you've made quite the impression on our youngest cub."

"Ducky?" Emma asked, a small smile reaching her lips when Fenrir nodded. "He was adorable." Her smile faltered as she really looked at Fenrir. "Was he one of yours?"

"Raoul's," Fenrir said. "He wanted a son."

Emma gave a start at the thought. "So, you took Ducky away from his family?"

"He was already a stray living on the streets out near Manchester."

"And what of his parents?"

"No idea. We watched him for a while. No one came to find him, so we took him with us," Fenrir said with a shrug. "At least he has a pack now," Fenrir added at the look on Emma's face.

"But he's still just a boy," Emma said quietly. "A magical one, I'm sure."

"He'll learn just as the others have."

Emma sat down on her mattress and set Figaro down. "You're doing those children a disservice, Fenrir," Emma said quietly. "They should know more than what you're willing to teach them. I know that things are challenging for…for our kind. Especially now that I've seen it first-hand, but things are going to change in the future, I'm sure of it."

"Really? Who amongst wizards will change things for werewolves? You were complaining about what people say about us just last week."

"Me," Emma said. "I'll do it."

"You?" Fenrir asked, his eyebrow raising. "Really."

Emma shrugged. "You never know, Fen. Wasn't it you who told me just last week that the world is changing?" she said. "Besides, I'm probably the only person in the world who can say that they've experienced you as a wolf and didn't get turned."

A displeased rumble rolled up Fenrir's throat, and Emma snickered at the noise. She took a look at her broom sitting near the door and sighed.

"I'm going flying for a bit," she said, getting up to snatch her broom up. "Meet you outside."

The rest of the day was surprisingly calm. Emma stayed out on her broom for as long as she could, much to Fenrir's annoyance. She wanted to feel the wind against her skin and not have to think. For the first time since being at the Moon's, he left her alone and let her continue to fly. As long as she stuck close by and was careful, she could travel just about anywhere on the property. It was almost funny to her how protective Fenrir was of her while she was flying. She giggled each time she thought of his threats if she got hurt and his annoyed growl when she pointed out he was being a hypocrite. Annoying Fenrir was a delightful way for her to pass the time.

Eventually, Caspian came out to join her, and they flew side by side while Elijah stayed on the ground reading. It was nice to have a normal conversation, but it felt odd that it wasn't with Persephone. She was close enough with Caspian; it was hard not to be when they were both Hufflepuffs, but she wanted to talk to Persephone. At least she would be able to confront Persephone when they were at Hogwarts away from everyone. Persephone clearly had answers and was keeping them to herself. Emma was determined to know exactly what it was Persephone refused to tell her.

Emma despised that Jude was at dinner again; however, she didn't miss his subtle limp. She was amused when he grumbled for Persephone to sit next to Fenrir. The temptation to question what was wrong was great, but Emma kept to herself. With the day finally over, Emma thought she was going to be able to get to bed. However, Fenrir had other plans for her.

"You need to start packing," he said from the table in their room. Emma never had any idea what he was looking over, but sometimes an owl would arrive, and he would get secretive. Whatever he had, she wasn't allowed to see. Though she was curious, she wasn't stupid. "Don't wait last minute."

"I want to go to bed, Fen. I'm tired," Emma said, biting back her whine. She hated the look Fenrir would give her when she whined.

"Start. Packing," he said, slowly turning back to the parchment in front of him.

Emma glared at the back of his head and pulled herself back out of bed. With a sigh, Emma took a look around to see where everything was. She had really managed to spread all of her things around the room.

"Don't just stand around, Lupin," Fenrir said, drawing a growl from Emma. "Your things are not going to get in your trunk by staring at it."

She swore her eye twitched, but she set about the room to gather what she could. Emma figured it would be best to start with her books. Fenrir had drilled it into her head at least half a dozen times that heavy objects should be packed at the bottom of her trunk. If he kept up his nonsense, she was going to shove him in there and keep him there forever just so she didn't have to hear him talk. With a stack of books in hand, Emma dropped them on her bed and cracked open her trunk. Her school uniform sat just at the top, and Emma frowned at it.

"I hear no movement from you," Fenrir said dryly. "Get a move on."

"Fenrir – shut – up," Emma said sharply, ripping her uniforms out of her trunk. "I'm trying on my uniform to make sure it still fits."

"Should have done that sooner," Fenrir said over his shoulder. Thankfully he did not comment on the long stream of expletive-laced names she had for him.

Unfortunately, Fenrir was very much correct in his statement that she should have tried on her uniform sooner. Her robes were fine, but everything else was _not_. Her skirt refused to fasten, and her jumpers and blouses were just a touch too tight. Her cardigans were _okay,_ but not really as comfortable as she liked. _She hated growing up_.

"Oh, buggering fuck," Emma muttered as she looked at herself in the mirror after trying on her third skirt. Why had she not considered that she would need a new uniform? She had required an entirely new wardrobe to accommodate the rest of her, so why didn't any of them consider her uniform? It was the worst possible time to notice, with only two days left to spare. She _possibly_ had a pair of trousers to get away with wearing, but that wouldn't last until the first Hogsmeade trip or Christmas.

"What are you going on about now?"

Emma tensed up slightly when the bathroom door opened, and she shot Fenrir a look. She was clothed, but he somehow always had a way of making her feel exposed. Even though she showed only the smallest sliver of her hip, she still felt her face heat up. She had blocked out Fenrir helping her the previous week and planned to keep it that way.

"Fen, what if you just walked in and I was naked?" Emma growled, tugging hard at the fastens of her skirt.

"You know I can hear when you're changing, right?" Fenrir asked pointedly, his eyes following her movements. "Besides, it's not like I haven't had a good look at you already. You've grown."

"No shit, Sherlock," Emma grumbled, clenching her fists into the waistband of her skirt to keep it from falling. "I don't want to have to go to Diagon Alley. It's going to be so packed."

"Well then why did you wait so long to try things on?"

"Because it's not like I've grown taller," Emma said, shooting Fenrir a look. "Didn't realize just how much Dad was adjusting all of my clothes for me. I don't know that any of it will hold up to another adjustment."

"See what happens when you actually take care of yourself?" Fenrir said dryly. "You don't look as though you're going to topple over with a strong breeze. Didn't you say that you never picked up dress robes?"

Emma scowled at Fenrir in the reflection of the mirror. "And I won't," Emma huffed. "I don't need them."

"Everyone should have dress robes."

"Even you?"

"I keep a set."

"If I just so happen to need something where I need to be dressed up, I've got more than enough to choose from in the closet."

"Those are not appropriate for a formal occasion."

Emma sucked in a deep breath through her nose. "Fenrir, will you please leave? I have no desire to have this conversation while I have to hold onto my skirt like this."

Fenrir gave Emma a once over and shook his head. "Get changed and go find Persephone and tell her that she needs to go shopping with you tomorrow."

"Oh, I get to go somewhere without my chaperone?" Emma questioned.

"Don't try me, Rabbit," Fenrir said pointedly. "I doubt you would want to be seen with me in public, but if you'd prefer..."

"No," Emma said sharply, pointing out the door. "Go."

Fenrir rolled his eyes and walked away, leaving the door open. Emma was about to shout at him for leaving the door open, but she knew exactly what he would say. Still, Emma was extremely quick about getting changed. Emma shot Fenrir a glare and held up two fingers at his back before slipping out of the room in search of Persephone.

Emma walked down the hall to Persephone's room. She frowned slightly when she reached the door and found it open. The light was on, but Persephone was nowhere to be found.

"Eff?" Emma said into Persephone's room. When no one responded, Emma took a cautious step into the room and took a look around. "Are you hiding somewhere?" Emma waited a few moments and listened for any movement, but there was nothing. She waited a few more moments and decided to try and see if she could find Persephone. Much like Remus, Fenrir was vigilant about keeping her wand with her at all times, so she wasn't entirely defenseless. She was sure that Jude had left as it was late, but she wasn't taking a chance.

She slowly made her way back along the hallway. The lights to the library were off, she could hear Caspian's loud laugh from behind his doorway, and there was no one in the potion's lab. Emma made her way downstairs, wondering if Persephone was with Sage in the kitchen or the dining room. Those were the only two places that she could think of her being. Emma took a look around the half-lit entryway and was about to turn right towards where the kitchen and dining room were, but there was a light to the left. She was tempted to follow her initial plan, but Emma was nothing if not curious. She went to the left.

Emma crept slowly down the hallway, trying to listen hard to the voices she heard. It was one of those moments she wished she had werewolf hearing. She had to keep getting closer to the open door, and a part of her was terrified of being caught. Emma kept close to the wall taking slow steps to avoid making too much noise; she had a feeling it wouldn't be good if anyone found her.

"I don't know what your problem is," she heard Ellis say.

Emma immediately froze where she was when she heard Jude's voice speak next, "You can't keep pretending like she doesn't exist, Persephone. You have had this entire time to do as we asked, and you haven't done thing."

"I don't want to do this anymore," came Persephone's voice. "I already told you."

"Well, that's too bad, isn't it?" Ellis said. "You have known for years that this was going to happen."

"What? That you keep insisting Voldemort is going to return? I don't believe it," Persephone scoffed.

"Jude needs to take his mark," Ellis continued, "and he's not going to be able to if you don't help."

"Because Jude killing Margaret wasn't enough? That was taking it too far, and you know it! There was no need to kill her and especially not the way that it was done."

Emma was torn between getting closer and just backing away. Did she want to know what was being said? Could she _handle_ what was being said? Her stomach dropped at the sudden confirmation that Jude was the one who killed her mother. She had known it, but hearing it made her sick. Knowing that Margaret had been entirely in her own mind and had suffered a slow death made Emma's stomach churn.

"And you're aware that by getting rid of the dog, it'll put you in favor with the Dark Lord?" Jude asked. "Not only will it allow me to finally take my mark, but it'll also put you in good standing to take yours when it's time. It would be so much easier if the mangy mutt wasn't around…"

"He's not coming back!" Persephone shouted. "Voldemort isn't coming back! I'm _not_ hurting Emma anymore. I'm glad that Fenrir's been here to keep her safe!"

"The only reason Greyback's keeping her safe is because he wants to fuck her," Jude spat.

"It's not…" Persephone immediately trailed off as if she thought it was better than to respond to Jude. Emma wished she would have continued what she was about to say.

"The Dark Lord is going to return, Persephone," Ellis said, "and you're going to have to join us one day. It's the only way to keep us all safe."

"And what if Wormtail's wrong?" Persephone asked.

"Wormtail's seen him!"

"I've seen him, and he's brilliant." A different voice this time. This one was new and excited. Who was this mysterious fourth person? Were there others that weren't speaking? "He will rise again with Wormtail's help. But the Dark Lord will be thanking me, and I'll be rewarded gloriously."

Whoever this fourth person was made Emma nervous. He spoke about Voldemort in the same way Fenrir spoke of his pride in being a werewolf.

"I'm still not doing this," Persephone said sharply after a long moment of silence. "If he's returning, then he's returning. Whatever. If you're going to try and hurt Emma, it's without my help."

"You are going to do exactly as we say," Ellis said. "As long as she's here, it'll make things easy."

"She doesn't _belong_ here – she should be home!" Persephone said.

"I don't understand why you're trying to protect her. She's not even human."

"But that doesn't mean she doesn't have feelings!"

"Oh please, Persephone," Ellis scoffed. "Just because you tricked her into falling for you, it doesn't mean you have to pretend that you ever cared."

"That wasn't a trick! I _do_ love her!"

"And when she finds out what _you've_ done?"

"Then I'll have to accept what I've done. I didn't want to do any of this, and you two made me. At least at the end of the day, as fucked up as Fenrir is, he wouldn't have ever tried to kill her."

There was a loud crack, and Emma felt her face twist up in a mix of anger and disgust. It didn't take Emma too much time to realize that Persephone had been slapped. She wanted to go running in, but that would be a stupid idea.

A dull ache started to fill her chest – Ellis insisted that their relationship had been a trick, but Emma couldn't believe that. Persephone said that it wasn't a trick. Emma desperately hoped that Persephone was telling the truth because she wasn't sure what she would do if it had all been a lie.

Emma knew if she stayed, she wouldn't be able to keep herself quiet. She slowly walked backward and nearly let out a gasp when she backed into something solid. Emma turned her head slowly to look over her shoulder and relaxed when she saw it was Fenrir. She must have taken too long, and he decided to go find her. He gave a sharp jerk of his head back towards the stairs and stepped around her to head to the room where the others were. The moment he spoke, Emma realized he was buying her time to head back. He sounded just as surprised as she was that there was a secret meeting going on.

She went as swiftly as she could while remaining silent. There was no way that Fenrir could actually be right. Voldemort couldn't be coming back, but they spoke of Peter so casually that Emma couldn't help but wonder. The idea of Peter helping Voldemort still after everything was disturbing. Even though Harry was the one who insisted he should live, her fathers didn't have to actually listen to him. They had spared Peter's life just as much as Harry had. Peter still working with Voldemort felt like he had betrayed them twice.

Emma didn't understand what Persephone could have done to her. Her heart felt like it would shatter into a million pieces. Persephone couldn't have done anything to her. Their relationship hadn't been a lie. Hell, Persephone had to have just found out about Jude being the one to kill her mother. Was that what Fenrir was trying to protect her from? Was he trying to keep her from making assumptions about what could have happened?

Emma looked around and frowned slightly seeing that Fenrir had put her books in her trunk already for her. Needing a distraction, she decided to try and keep herself busy. The moment they got to Hogwarts, Emma was determined to find out exactly what was going on.

"Hey," Persephone said, her hair covering the place Emma was sure she had been slapped. She plastered on a smile, but her eyes were red-rimmed. "Fenrir said that you need to get some shopping done tomorrow. I told you that you got hips finally."

Emma tried to return Persephone's smile. "Yeah, well, apparently it's everywhere. I didn't realize just how much I actually changed."

"It suits you. You've always been pretty, but you know," Persephone said softly with a slight sniffle. "Did you want to try and make a day of it? Fenrir said that you probably wouldn't mind being out."

"Oh, because he knows how much I love shopping," Emma said with a soft laugh. "We could. Maybe we could go out into the city for a bit? We could try and find some new Muggle dish you haven't had before."

"Do you think Fenrir would be mad?"

"Do you think that I care? He'll deal."

"I just don't want him to get mad at you," Persephone whispered.

Emma shook her head. "I'll be fine," Emma said. "He'll growl at me, act as though he's about ready to kill me, and then probably kiss my forehead afterward like he usually does."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Persephone worried her lip between her teeth for a moment and then nodded, her smile more genuine. "All right," she said. "We'll make it a whole day thing. Maybe we should skip dinner here. It's been a while since we've done something together."

"I think that sounds like a good idea," Emma replied.

"All right," Persephone said, straightening up slightly. "Let's head out around ten, yeah?"

"That sounds perfect," Emma replied. She gave Persephone a small smile and called out just before she closed the door, "Hey, Persephone?"

"Yeah?"

"I, uhm…just wanted to let you know that I love you."

Persephone's face fell, her face twisted with the effort of not breaking down into tears. "I love you, too," she said quietly, her chin trembling slightly and her eyes growing glassy. She studied Emma's face for a moment, and then she was gone.

Emma gave up on packing her trunk and climbed into bed shortly after Persephone left. She turned out the lights and curled up under her blankets. Figaro seemed to know that Emma needed company and hopped up on the bed to join her. She rubbed her furry little head under Emma's chin and twirled herself into a tight ball next to her. Emma was somewhere in between being awake and finally falling asleep when Fenrir returned.

She felt him sit down at the edge of her mattress with a sigh. "I want you to remember tonight, Emma," Fenrir said quietly. "This is why I keep telling you to be careful who you trust. The moment the war truly begins, things are only going to get worse." He fell silent for a moment, brushed his knuckles against her cheek, and stood up. There was more that he wanted to say, Emma could feel it, but the words never came. "Get some rest. Good night, Rabbit."

If someone had told Emma that her life would be defined by one single moment, she would have laughed. She didn't believe in destiny, cared little for the concept of fate, and certainly didn't believe in any higher beings. Her entire summer had been a series of different events, molding her in ways that she wouldn't understand for some time. She had been forced to make decisions that would affect her entire life, tiny strings being weaved into the very fabric of her existence. If any higher power truly existed, Emma was positive they wouldn't have put her through Hell and back again. She never considered the possibility that magic was a spirit unlike any other, and the universe was determined to continue its cosmic joke. Nothing, absolutely nothing, would have ever prepared her for what was to come.

Being out with Persephone felt like a breath of fresh air. Persephone was unaware that Emma had heard anything of what was said the night before, and Emma pushed it all aside. She wanted to enjoy her time with Persephone. Deep down, somewhere deep down, Emma knew that Persephone was telling the truth. It didn't change whatever Persephone might have done, but Emma couldn't see the possibility of Persephone doing anything drastic. It was impossible.

Madam Malkin's had been an absolute nightmare of a trip. Getting fitted with another new school uniform was quick but trying to find dress robes was miserable. Emma felt like she tried on dress after dress, unable to settle on one possible option. It felt like there was something wrong with each and every dress. Eventually, Persephone took matters into her own hands and told Emma that it would be a surprise. Madam Malkin was pleasant and didn't dare mention her scars or bites, and was subtle in making suggestions for changes she could make. She had Madam Malkin take all of Emma's measurements and sent Emma off on her way.

"Go to Flourish and Blotts for a bit. I'll take care of this," Persephone said. Emma shook her head and deposited her pouch of money in Persephone's hand. "Worst case scenario, we'll go to Twillfit and Tattings."

"Don't make me look ugly," Emma said pointedly.

"Have I ever?" Persephone asked, sounding mildly slighted.

"No," Emma smiled.

Flourish and Blotts always seemed more magical than any other part of Diagon Alley to Emma. Books were her escape from reality, and if she learned something along the way, then even better.

After her very favorable results with the Wolfsbane Potion, Emma was determined to learn more about potion-making. Though she loved the subject, she owned very few potions books other than what was required for school. If Remus were with her, he would be making fun of her for beelining to the potions section. Emma would have probably made some sort of joke at whatever comment he made. It would have been fun, but that wasn't her reality.

Emma had taken to keeping her head low while out in public. If she didn't look up, she didn't have to see how people looked at her. When she was lucky, they just ignored her altogether. Today was not any different.

She glanced up just enough to find a section of books dedicated to achieving a Potion's Mastery. The books were high level and would probably be considered well above her skill level, but she was determined. Emma kept her face down and scanned the books on the shelf through her lashes. Her curiosity was piqued when she found a book on updated and advanced potion theory, and she reached out for it, but she wasn't the only one. Emma had tried to reach for the book at the same time as someone else, and their fingers brushed with the lightest of touches. They both seemed to freeze, weighing the possibility of who would get the last copy of the book.

Emma giggled nervously and quickly pulled her hand away.

"Sorry," she muttered, turning her face away to avoid being stared at. "It looked interesting."

There was silence, and Emma felt her body heat up with her embarrassment. She hated when people didn't say a word to her, especially in awkward situations. She felt as though this person was trying to look at her. Or maybe not – perhaps they were just reading the summary of the book they both reached for. Emma only turned her head further to avoid the potential of staring and continued looking at the other books.

"You look a bit young to be going for your Potion's Mastery," said a man's voice.

"Depends on who you talk to," Emma laughed. "I'm guessing you're going for yours?"

"I only have one year left, and I'll finally have it," the man said with a sigh. "It's been a long few years. Just a few more requirements, and that's finally out of the way."

Emma hummed in response and nodded. "Well, good luck then," Emma said.

Not wanting to linger near the potions books, Emma made her way to a different store section. She groaned at the sudden thought and reminder of Fenrir's insistence that she continue to take Divination. Did she really want to? Not particularly, but he had issued her a challenge whether she liked it or not. Emma didn't back down from challenges easily, and it was more of a nuisance than anything. With a sigh, Emma made her way to the divination books. She didn't think a new book was required, but she would have to ask Persephone. Instead, she peered through the selection available.

Emma pondered the legitimacy of the branches of divination Fenrir had mentioned. There weren't too many books on the subject, which was disappointing. If he was going to speak of pure nonsense, Emma wanted to understand what exactly that nonsense was. While Emma didn't find anything that would help her understand Fenrir better, she did find a book that made her giggle.

 _Find Your True Love: From Abacomancy to Zygomancy._ It was the exact sort of nonsense that made Emma question the art. She was sure that there was a place for it within the magical world, but it wasn't for her. Emma couldn't stop herself from picking it up to look through and see what it contained. She was sure it would be humorous.

"For someone who just tried to pick up a highly advanced potions book, I'm surprised you would pick up _that_ book." It was the voice of the man from before, and Emma blushed furiously.

She lifted it slightly with another nervous giggle. "It's the newest comedy book," Emma said. "Didn't you know? Did you follow me?"

"I was going to pay for my books, actually," he replied. "What does it say about tea leaves?"

Emma snorted and flipped back to the section on Tasseography. "It says to do the reading with a single pink candle," Emma recited from the book. "When the wax begins to drip, then you may drink your tea and think about your intended question, obviously asking who your true love is. Swirl the cup three times clockwise, once counterclockwise, turn it over and let it drain. Once drained, pick up your cup, and your cup shall have not only the initials of your beloved but how you'll meet. How romantic."

"Huh," the man said. "Might be fun to do just because. Thanks."

With a sigh, Emma gave up on her quest for understanding divination. It was a fruitless effort, and she was never going to enjoy it. Still, she was almost tempted to try the tea leaf ritual just to see what would happen. It wasn't as though it could possibly be true. She put the book back where it belonged and decided to figure out what was taking Persephone so long. She still hadn't appeared in Flourish and Blotts, and Emma didn't think it should take that long to get a dress figured out.

She was in the middle of thinking about the previous night, still confused by what had actually occurred, when she found herself on the floor. Someone had barreled right into her, forcing her sideways onto the floor. Emma was utterly stunned – she hadn't seen it coming at all.

"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry. We seem to keep meeting." It was the same man as before, and Emma was unsure of whether or not to look up at the man, but then his hand was right in front of her.

"Please, let me help you up," he practically begged. "I got too distracted reading the other book I picked up."

That was something Emma understood all too well. What would it hurt to let this stranger help her up. She placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her up from the floor.

"I've done exactly that many times," Emma said with a laugh. She finally looked up at the man she had been speaking to, and her breath came out as a sharp gasp as her eyes met an all too familiar gaze.

She knew that she was staring and staring hard, but this was too strange. Emma felt she was looking at a much younger, equally tall, but less muscular and bulky version of Fenrir. His dark hair was short and neat, parted to the side and swept off his forehead. He had a very short beard that was kept tidy, the lines crisp and clean. But he didn't exude that air of wildness that Fenrir carried. She would know; she had spent enough time with Fenrir lately to see his animalistic nature beneath the man.

The man in front of her was a proper looking young man, immaculate with his creased brown trousers, brown brogues, and light blue button-down. He didn't appear to be that much older than her, in his early twenties if he almost completed his Potions Mastery. He certainly didn't look any older than twenty-five. His eyes were the same amber color as Fenrir's but were warm instead of cold, and they were full of genuine surprise that changed quickly to distress.

His eyebrows, nearly the same as Fenrir's, knit closely together as if he was incredibly torn by what was happening. His nose was slightly longer but the exact same shape as Fenrir's, sloping in the exact same spot. However, his lips were fuller, his face thinner and more angled. Whoever this Fenrir lookalike was, he seemed just as surprised to see her as she was of him.

Emma was suddenly thrown into a very confusing set of thoughts. _Did Fenrir have a son?_ He had to. There were far too many similarities to be coincidental, and Emma was had to be imagining it all. There was absolutely no way that Fenrir had a son. If he did, she felt as though the entire wizarding world would know. This had to be an exceptionally elaborate joke being played on her. By who, she wasn't sure, but it _had_ to be a joke.

The man's face still hadn't entirely shifted from surprise, and he appeared to be doing some very quick thinking as well. He had to know her – most people did after the articles in the Daily Prophet were published. Her school photo was included to accent the articles written early in the summer. She was grateful no photos could be published showing how she looked now because none existed just yet.

It seemed the man had finally come to a conclusion of how he felt. In seconds, his expression shifted from anger, to fear, to concern, to terror, until finally, he settled on a neutral mask. Emma would have thought he was kind until he opened his mouth and spoke.

"You need to watch where you're going."

Emma stared at him, completely dumbfounded. Seeing what the man actually looked like, she had expected Fenrir's voice. Instead, she was once again greeted with a smooth voice much closer to her father's. While his tone was sharp, there was an unexpected gentleness behind it as though he didn't want to sound the way he did. His words were crisp and not clipped, reminding her of Sirius's accent. He wasn't Welsh at all. _Who was he?_

"I hate to inform you that I think you've got that all wrong," Emma scoffed, finally ripping her hand out of his and crossing her arms. How long had she been holding his hand? If she remembered the moment at all correctly, _he_ had walked into _her_ and not the other way around. She felt her lips curl back into a sneer, and it was the man's turn to look dumbfounded. He clearly didn't expect her attitude.

"I beg your pardon?" he said, eyebrows raising into his hairline. God, he looked _exactly_ like Fenrir with that look on his face.

" _You_ walked into _me_ ," Emma said slowly. "Or are you too dumb to grasp that concept?"

"Excuse me? You're, what - twelve? And you're going to ask me if I'm _dumb_?"

Emma immediately began to splutter with her anger. "I'm nearly fifteen, thank you," she said, glaring at the man in front of her. "Bit rude, aren't you?"

"Says the ' _nearly fifteen-_ year-old' who's the height of a first year."

"You've _got_ to be bloody kidding me," Emma scoffed, crossing her arms. She was about to say something else when she heard Persephone calling her name. Emma whipped around to glare at Persephone, whose quick and excited walking slowed to almost a near halt as she approached. Persephone's eyes darted between Emma and the man, and her eyes widened.

"Emma, I see you've met Greyson," Persephone said, giving the man a sheepish grin.

"You _know_ him?" Emma asked slowly, jerking her thumb over her shoulder at the man who was apparently named _Greyson_.

"Good ol' Greyson Fenmore the second," Persephone said, putting on the tone of someone royal, lifting her nose as if she was a snob. She then giggled, which died out as she took in the look on Emma's face. Emma didn't find it funny. "Er, yeah. Greyson was in his seventh year when we were in our first. Slytherin, you know."

Emma whipped back around to look at _Greyson Fenmore_ , looking him up and down as if he were an inconvenience. "I don't remember seeing _you_."

"Well, I didn't make it a point to hang around with snotty little first years."

"Oh, Merlin," Persephone said quietly. She cleared her throat, gesturing vaguely at Emma. "Greyson, this is –"

"I don't care to know who your little friend is, Persephone," Greyson spat, pulling himself up to his full height. "You know damn well about how I feel about creatures –"

"If you're about to say what I think you're going to say, just do yourself a favor and stop right there," Emma said sharply. "I am _not_ a damn werewolf, and you don't even know half of what I've been through."

"You're not a werewolf, eh? Then what's that there on your shoulder?"

That was a low blow, and Emma clamped her hand over the bite mark on her shoulder with an embarrassed flush crossing her face. Greyson was officially a proper arsehole, and Emma hated him.

"He attacked me when he wasn't transformed, in case you're wondering," Emma said quietly, all desire to fight lost. She looked over at Persephone and then glanced over at Greyson to get one final look at him. "I'll be outside."

Persephone didn't take long to meet Emma back out in the shopping area, and the moment she was outside, Emma lost it.

"Why didn't you ever think to tell me about Greyson?" Emma snapped. "I think that would be critical information for me to know!"

Persephone stared at Emma, regret written all over her face. She frowned and let out a long breath.

"I didn't think you would have cared," Persephone whispered.

"Persephone, are you aware of how absolutely _insane_ this is? This summer has been an absolute mess, and then to find out –"

"He doesn't know!" Persephone shouted, cutting Emma off before she could finish what she was about to say. "He-he doesn't know."

"Who? The devil or his devil spawn?"

"The devil," Persephone said quietly. "He has no idea about Greyson. And Greyson didn't mean anything that he said. I swear Greyson is really sweet and–"

"He's _sweet?_ Persephone, do you know how mental you sound?"

"Emma, please just listen to me!" Persephone pleaded, grabbing onto Emma's hands tightly. "I'll explain things when we're heading back to school, but please don't mention Greyson at all. Greyson doesn't know…doesn't know _him_ and wants to keep it that way. If you say something, you know what'll happen. This has to be kept a secret."

Emma pulled her hands out of Persephone's and growled in aggravation. How was she supposed to keep a secret with Fenrir in the same damn room with her at nearly all times? It was going to be near impossible, but Emma knew that if Fenrir knew that he had a child, he would go after him. Emma swore that no one should ever be subjected to having to deal with Fenrir, and though Greyson was an arse, she wouldn't do that to him. She couldn't do that to anyone, no matter how angry they made her.

"Persephone, you better fucking tell me everything because this is going to be the worst possible secret I ever have to keep."

"I know," Persephone replied quietly. "I know."

They stayed out until curfew. They waited for the exact last possible moment to leave London, waiting at the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron until 8:59 PM. Emma needed time to process that Greyson existed, and she didn't want to have to be with Fenrir longer than she had to. Persephone seemed inclined to agree, and so they waited. Perhaps it wasn't the smartest idea, but she doubted Fenrir would do anything too dramatic when she was leaving for school.

Fenrir's aggravation came off of him in droves when she stepped back into her room. Even Figaro stayed far away. It was like Fenrir's anger came out in supersonic waves from his place on the sofa, and Emma physically felt it. She felt herself start to get a little nervous; she didn't think he would get this angry with her for being out all day. Emma thought it was stupid because he was the one who suggested that she go out to get her things in the first place.

He looked particularly like his wolfish side that night, splayed out on the couch with a cigarette between his fingers. His shirt was off, and he was wearing his ripped jeans, which wasn't good. The bigger he made himself look, the more domineering he planned to be; the wilder he looked, the more power he wanted. He knew how to be intimidating, and even though Emma had grown used to Fenrir's behavior, it still worried her. Fenrir was willing to play dangerously with her tonight, more than displeased that she was gone for so long. He clearly wasn't happy that her plans had changed without him knowing.

"Where were you?" he growled out the moment Emma shut the door.

"In London," Emma said slowly, meeting Fenrir's eyes for only the briefest moment to judge whether she could look at him. His darkened gaze told her that it would be a poor idea to have extended eye-contact, and Emma set about adding her purchases to her trunk. She had to be submissive to appease him. "We were in London all day like I said we would be. Spent half the day in Diagon Alley and then went to a few Muggle stores nearby. Thought it would be a good idea to see what else I could pick up because I realized last minute my toiletries were low. That and I wanted to try and find a coat since I'm sure mine's small and once again, I didn't think about trying it on before. Couldn't find one I liked, though."

Emma learned that it was easier to sell a lie with Fenrir if she could find genuine truth to her statement. It wasn't entirely a lie that they went out in London to pick up a few things, and as long as she could remember that, Fenrir didn't pick up the lie. She knew that one day he would pick up on her deception, but she would continue to use her method of dancing around the truth until then. It wasn't too unlike what Remus used to do with her. She truly was her father's daughter, after all.

Fenrir's eyes scanned over the things Emma was putting away and the bags she still had left. He was searching for the lie in her words, but Emma was determined to not let him find one.

"I brought you a gift, actually," Emma said, taking a moment to reach for her purchases from Sugarplum's Sweet Shop. Fenrir eyed Emma suspiciously, the move unexpected. To be fair, Emma didn't know that she would ever do such a thing until she did it. It was meant to be funny, and she hoped that it would calm Fenrir down.

She flipped the bag upside down, separating her chocolates and other treats from what she had purchased Fenrir. Emma had gone overboard on sugar quills, decided on several bags of jelly slugs, but she also purchased blood pops. Blood pops were meant for vampires, but Fenrir's very nature made Emma feel like it was the perfect joke gift. The shopkeep gave her a funny look, but thank Merlin, didn't question the purchase. She could have lied and said they were for a vampire, but it was better not to have to explain. Emma gathered everything for Fenrir in her hands and crossed over to the sofa, holding out the purchases expectantly.

Fenrir's eyes narrowed as he searched her eyes, and then slowly, very slowly, he pulled himself back in. He stared, eyes still narrowed, at the candy in Emma's hands as he settled himself to sit like a normal person. Emma was relieved when he finally held his hands out for her to deposit everything into. She was even more relieved when he set everything down next to him and then arched an eyebrow at her, wanting an explanation.

"Because I was sick of you eating my sugar quills," Emma said pointedly. "The ones I had were meant to last me for a while, but you went through my three-month supply in a week. And I thought you would appreciate having your own bags of jelly slugs because God knows you tried to eat all of mine."

"And the blood pops?"

"I hardly think I need to remind you of every single time I've called you a vampire," she replied. "Now, I'm sure it's not your favorite flavor of blood, since it's not mine, but…"

Fenrir's eyes snapped to hers in surprise, and then suddenly, he began to laugh. He pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

Sweet Merlin, it worked. She wasn't sure if he would find it funny, but he did, and the calculated risk was worth it. Emma could indulge for a few minutes and stay where she was. He was pleased with her again, and she needed to keep him that way.

"Perfection," he purred as he kissed her cheek before finally letting her go. "Where are your dress robes?"

"Oh," Emma said as she went back to putting things away. "I couldn't find anything I liked, so Persephone sat down with Madam Malkin to have something custom made. I know nothing about it, so it'll be a surprise when it shows up."

"I was hoping I would get to see," Fenrir muttered, settling himself into a more neutral position as he lounged back on the couch. He was appeased and in a much better mood.

"Well, not this time, you sugar hound," Emma said. She didn't miss the way his lips curled up slightly into a smile.

When it came time to finally sleep, Emma's mind was wandering too much. She kept thinking of Greyson and sneaking glances up at Fenrir from her book. It was disturbing just how much Greyson looked like his father; it was even more disturbing that neither of them knew each other. Clearly there was a story if Greyson _knew_ that Fenrir was his father, but Fenrir had no idea he existed. Emma swore if Persephone didn't explain everything, she would lose it, especially since Greyson had his father's name.

The thought hit her like a slap in the face as her eyes darted back up to look at Fenrir. The second. Greyson was Greyson Fenmore _the second,_ which meant that there was a first, and damn it, the first was right in the room with her. Her thoughts had gotten so far ahead of her that she didn't even make the connection right away. Another thought hit her very quickly after – when they discussed her fictional "What if?" life, Fenrir had given her his real last name. _That_ was why he hesitated to answer her. There was no way that the universe decided to be so kind as to bless her with such a vital piece of information.

Emma stared at Fenrir for a long moment, trying to process her revelation. Before the werewolf Fenrir Greyback existed, there was a man by the name of Greyson Fenmore. He was once a pure-blood wizard from Wales but was now the most savage werewolf of all time. And Emma finally had everything she needed to know to answer her questions. She knew Fenrir's age, could easily go through old school records and yearbooks, and _she would get her answers_.

She had to admit Fenrir was clever. He barely had to even change his name, and whether it was a product of convenience or not, it worked. Fenrir Greyback was infinitely more terrifying than Greyson Fenmore. Emma was probably one of the only few people alive who would ever know that. What a gloriously powerful position for her to be in.

_Merlin's saggy tits._

The thought must have been a touch too loud as Fenrir looked up at her from his book of choice – something Muggle, to Emma's amusement.

"What?" he snapped, an eyebrow raising.

Emma put on a half-hearted smile.

"I was trying to figure out if I'm going to miss you," she said with a shrug. "You haven't been an absolute terror to me, and I was thinking about how I appreciated it."

Fenrir grunted in response, though a slight growl followed along with it. He didn't entirely believe her, but she wasn't surprised. Her heart was racing from the pure adrenaline of finally having a point of reference that Fenrir would have absolutely noticed. She had to switch gears.

"It's not just that, though," Emma said quietly. "I'm worried about you making me make my final decision on what I'd like to do. I don't feel like I have enough information."

A lie within a lie within a half-truth. Emma had mostly made her decision, but she genuinely still had no idea what exactly Fenrir wanted from her. Emma figured she was already digging herself deeper and deeper into a hole; she might as well keep going.

"You've made your decision already," Fenrir pointed out. "We all already know."

"I've _mostly_ made my decision, and technically, I haven't said anything to anyone except for Dad. I've never said a word to you."

"You don't have to. I already know."

"That's still not the point, Fenrir. You have been avoiding telling me what exactly you want from me, and that's not fair. And don't you dare tell me that life's not fair because I'm getting sick of that being your reasoning for everything."

Fenrir's eyebrow raised, and he shifted himself again, leaning forward towards her with his elbows on his knees. He was finally willing to talk, but he was going to make her nervous as he did it. Getting a reaction out of Emma was one of his favorite things to do. She wouldn't give it.

"Do you really want to know?" he asked, his face twisting into the smile that she hated. Emma seriously hated Fenrir sometimes.

"Yes and no," Emma replied in a near whisper.

Fenrir latched onto the yes and was over top of her in seconds. He enjoyed being over her like this far too much, straddling her legs and boxing her in so she couldn't leave. Oh, how she hated when Fenrir got like this. His grip on her chin to hold her where she was wasn't as rough as it would typically be. It was almost reverent – _almost_. Emma would have backed away at the look in his eyes. He looked hungry, and Emma felt herself stop breathing, trying to brace herself for whatever it was he was about to say. Fenrir was so close to her that she swore he would kiss her. Emma hoped he wouldn't.

"I want to own you," he growled out. "I want to own every part of you, your heart, your body, _your very soul_. I want you to serve me and only me for the rest of your life. I want you to bear my pups – my powerful pups. I want the only thing that matters to you to be me. I want you to realize that you're _mine_ , Rabbit, and I control you."

"Well, that doesn't sound fun," Emma huffed in annoyance. She took in a breath and let it out slowly to try and still her nerves. She had mostly figured those were Fenrir's intentions, but to hear him finally say it out loud was chilling. Emma couldn't let down her guard and let him win. "The werewolf equivalent of barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen sounds miserable. What about what I want? We haven't discussed it, and the fact you waited so long to tell me all of this is a bit annoying."

"And what do you want, Rabbit? You've already told me you don't want power."

Somewhere along the line, Emma realized that wasn't entirely true. She didn't want power, not in the sense that Fenrir did, but she did want power over Fenrir. Seeing the children in the packs had been what confirmed her need for control, though she didn't want it. They didn't deserve the lives they had to live. Her heart had broken for Killian when he explained the story of why his daughter was turned. He shouldn't have had to make that decision. Emma shouldn't have had to ask Remus to consider making the exact same decision.

Fenrir's reign was too tight, and it was incredibly wrong. As long as Fenrir was around, things would be difficult for werewolves, and it wasn't how things should be. The sense she had gotten from the werewolves at the World Cup was that they were tired, and they were resigned. They wanted to live in peace and didn't think it was worth fighting Fenrir. That didn't sit well for Emma. She knew it was dangerous territory, but she was at least willing to try. If Fenrir desired to have her as a mate, then she expected him to work with her.

Emma wanted to overthrow Fenrir and accomplish the things that she wanted to. It meant doing things she didn't want to, and she knew it, but she had already grown resigned to the idea of what Fenrir wanted. If Remus's stories were of any indication, things were going to be miserable with Fenrir. Until she was forced to join the pack, she was safe from the worst of it, and it gave her time to build her plans, but she needed Fenrir to agree.

She remained quiet. It would be better if Fenrir made the connection that she wanted power himself. If she were to outright say it, he would feel threatened, and he wasn't stupid. She tried to push that thought out as much as she could to allow Soleil to latch onto it. Luckily it didn't take long for Fenrir to pick up on it. He stilled like a dog catching the scent of a rabbit, and Emma knew she had him captured.

Fenrir's eyes narrowed slightly, and he lifted Emma's face a little further to pull her gaze back to his. He searched her eyes, and he was searching them hard. His smile was different this time, still wolfish and twisted, but genuinely delighted.

"You _do_ want power," he said almost breathlessly.

"I see the appeal of it," Emma replied lightly. "I want to be more than just your mate, Fenrir. I want _more_."

His joy was just as palpable as his anger from earlier. He shifted himself to sit back on his feet so that he was no longer over her; he was allowing her to be his equal. Fenrir shifted forward to take her face between his hands, and once again, Emma worried he would kiss her. If he did, she would throw her entire plan away. That would be too much for her to handle.

"You want to be an Alpha," he breathed out, still searching her face. "You want to serve _with_ me."

"If Voldemort is returning, then you're right," Emma said, trying to sound as earnest as she possibly could. She would have to twist the truth again, but it would be fine. "I want to be on the right side of things. I love the…the pups. I can find happiness, but I would like you to work with me, too, Fen. There are things that I want to do, too, and I feel like we could have a very happy partnership. You're powerful, but we can be even more powerful together."

"You have to earn it," Fenrir said quietly after a few long minutes. "As beautiful as it would be to have you right at my side from the beginning, you have to earn your place. I can grant you privilege as my mate, but you need to prove your worth to the pack to be an Alpha."

The universe was being unnaturally kind to her. She didn't think it was going to be this easy, and it felt wrong. What was going to be taken away from her for giving her such incredible gifts?

"I know," Emma said quietly.

"You'll have to fight."

"I know," Emma repeated. "I have my conditions, though."

"Shh," Fenrir said, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "Shh, fy lleuad bach, don't ruin this moment for me. I have waited a very long time for this." He pressed another kiss to her forehead and then her nose and forced himself to stop when he saw the look she gave him. Fenrir knew better than to cross that boundary too soon. "We can discuss your conditions when we meet after your birthday."

 _Thank Merlin_.

Very slowly, Fenrir backed off her bed and returned to his sofa, watching her as if she would change her mind.

"You understand that with the Dark Lord's return, you'll be expected to serve him as well, yes?" Fenrir asked. He was studying Emma closely. "You understand what that will mean? What that will entail?"

The potential of losing everyone she loved? The possibility that her father wouldn't actually understand what she was trying to do? That if Voldemort was returning, it meant she would have to pretend she believed in his views? That she would potentially have to beg for forgiveness when she finally succeeded in her plans? Emma knew all of that, but she had to be hopeful it would never come to that. But that was also why she had particular conditions. They weren't foolproof, but she would try to make them as solid as she possibly could.

"Yes," Emma said quietly, hoping that she sounded more sure than she felt.

"Good, fy lleuad," Fenrir said. He still sounded stunned; Emma had taken him completely off guard. "Very good."

Emma picked her book back up, trying to ignore the way Fenrir was staring at her. When she couldn't stand it any longer, Emma gave up and set her book aside. It wasn't as though she was reading the book anyway. Her eyes had stayed on the same page the entire time, unable to take in the words.

"I'm going to bed," Emma said, slipping under her covers. "Good night, Fen."

To Emma's surprise, Fenrir let her sleep in. She was startled to find that the clock on her nightstand said that it was ten in the morning. Emma was even more startled to find Fenrir's ring back on her finger. She had left his ring on her nightstand, waiting for him to mention that she wasn't wearing it, but he took matters into his own hands. Whatever act Emma sold to Fenrir had worked.

"You let me sleep," Emma said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. She looked at Fenrir curiously, but he only shrugged.

"Thought you deserved it," he said gruffly. He gestured to the plate of toast on the table next to him. "Wasn't sure what else you'd want to eat this morning."

Emma gave the air a subtle sniff and gave Fenrir a soft smile as she smelled the mix of cinnamon and sugar. Well, well, Fenrir _could_ be sensible if he thought he was getting what he wanted. That was excellent information to know.

The last day of the summer was always busy. Even though Emma had partially packed, between all the children walking between rooms to check on the other's progress, it felt like they were getting nowhere. Emma was beyond happy to return to Hogwarts and leave the entire mess she was in behind for a little while. She was terrified that she would be in an incredible amount of trouble with Fenrir in ten days.

Being busy was good, and it kept her thoughts at bay. Merlin, did she have a ton of them, but they could wait twenty-four hours more. At least she didn't have a full moon to contend with that year. When she brought it up to Fenrir, he only smiled at Emma's aggravation over the previous summer. Fenrir saw that night much differently than Emma did and confessed it was a fond memory. He enjoyed the chase even if he wasn't successful. Emma disagreed. It was not fun at all.

Even Persephone seemed happier than she had been the entire time Emma had been at the house. Persephone was clearly ready to go back to Hogwarts as well. Emma wasn't the only one with demons within the four walls of the home. Hogwarts was suddenly a place to escape to. After everything Emma had gone through, she understood why her father and Sirius were always happy to return.

Dinner felt almost like a celebration to Emma. She wouldn't have to be in a room with Jude for a very long time. If Jude were to have a regrettable accident while she was at Hogwarts, Emma couldn't say she would be too upset. She couldn't even get mad at his stupid comments; she was _happy_. Emma kept a mental countdown of just how many hours, how many minutes, and _how many seconds_ were left. At this time tomorrow, she would be sitting in the Great Hall with the people who still wanted to be her friend.

Emma didn't expect that thought to be the one that sent her back into a sudden negative tailspin of thoughts. What if she had no friends? The moment it came out that her father was a werewolf, it was like people disappeared out of nowhere. Now that she had been attacked and the rumor of being a werewolf would be all but confirmed in the eyes of her peers, what would happen?

She packed her bag for the next day slowly when they returned upstairs. Her mind was too focused on how exactly the school year would go. Fenrir had picked up that something was wrong, but by some sheer miracle, he didn't question her. Emma had a feeling he already knew what was bothering her, but he was waiting for her to bring it up. In the meantime, Fenrir was pouring over yet another piece of parchment at the table. Instead of having a cigarette, he had a sugar quill tucked between his lips, and it amused Emma to no end. Perhaps it would be an excellent time to try and further sell that she was interested in what Fenrir wanted.

With a sigh, Emma set her bag to the side. Fenrir turned his head slightly, watching Emma warily as she approached. She knew that he would; this was new behavior for her, but Emma needed to make him think she was serious. Fenrir had been chasing her for years; for her to go to him was unfamiliar. She never made the first move, but that was going to have to change. Just because she had won one battle against Fenrir, it didn't mean that there weren't going to be at least a dozen more. It was going to be a process to win Fenrir over completely.

Emma dropped her chin onto Fenrir's shoulder with a soft, exhausted breath. The way he tensed up was very minute; she had taken him off guard for the second time in twenty-four hours. He wasn't sure what to think of it, and he eyed her suspiciously. Emma expected it but didn't move.

"What are you doing?" he asked her gruffly.

"It's called affection, Fen," Emma huffed, tilting her head to look at him. She dropped her cheek to his shoulder instead, and Emma raised an eyebrow in response to his. "Ever hear of it?"

"You've never done this before," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. He pulled the sugar quill away from his mouth and set it down. He was intrigued by the change, though wary.

Emma snorted and turned her head to face the other way, closing her eyes.

"I'm worried about going back to school," Emma said quietly. "I'm not sure that I'm ready to see everyone yet."

Fenrir straightened up slightly but didn't dare make Emma move from where she was. Just like with Remus, his hand came up to gently brush his knuckles against her cheek.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I'm not you, Fen. I care about what people have to say about me, and I'm afraid to know what they're going to say now."

"Fuck them," Fenrir growled. "You already have everything you need. There's no use in worrying about what they have to say – what matters is what you're there to do. You have your pack, Emma. That's all you need."

Emma turned her head back the other way to look at Fenrir. She wasn't used to him looking at her the way he was, with fondness and thinly veiled concern. Very rarely did his eyes shift from something that wasn't coldness, and for a brief moment, all she could see was Greyson, and she had to look away. If she let her thoughts slip for too long, Soleil would be the one to betray her very thoughts.

"I know that's all I need," Emma agreed, with a sigh. She had to get back to the conversation at hand because she genuinely meant every word. Going back, as welcome as it was, would be a challenge. "But I also need to survive the year, Fen."

"You're too sensitive," he said softly, his hand stroking her hair. "You always were. I thought you would have grown out of that by now."

Emma didn't mask her pout. "I've gotten better with it," she said. "I think."

"You have," he agreed. "But you could stand to get a tougher skin. You're going to need it."

"Thanks," Emma huffed.

"I'm being honest with you," Fenrir said. "If you're worried about what people are going to say about how you look, don't. You're beautiful, Emma. You know that."

"Well, shit," Emma said, shooting Fenrir a glare. She huffed again and lifted her head to kiss his cheek. She hated when he complimented her, but it had been a thought that crossed her mind a million times in the past hour. Being told she was beautiful by Fenrir was less than ideal every single time, but it was what she needed to hear. She was sure Remus would tell her the exact same thing if he was at the platform tomorrow, but her thoughts needed to be soothed, and Fenrir was right there. "I think I might actually miss you, after all, Fen."

"I think you're getting sick," Fenrir said. "You would never do or say that in your right mind."

"I've had to deal with you for two weeks – my sanity went out the window days ago," Emma said, and Fenrir laughed.

When Fenrir was like this, playful and not overbearing, he was fine. Emma saw a side of Fenrir that others rarely got to see, left only for his pack. There would never be any returning from the things he had done and the things he was sure to do in the future; Emma knew that. He was too far gone, too depraved and sick, but she could tolerate him because she had to. She wasn't sure what that said about her, had thoroughly questioned herself many times, but she rationalized that it was a survival tactic. Any sane person would do what they had to in order to survive.

Everything she was doing was for survival, but not just for her. She planned to change things, and she was going to come out stronger than ever.

Emma was going to make sure that her family stayed safe. Jude was eventually never going to be an issue if she got her way, she was going to get Peter and make sure Sirius was free, and she was going to ensure her family's safety. It meant relying on Fenrir, manipulating him in all the ways he ever manipulated her, but she was determined. For one brief moment, Emma almost felt a little bad about what she was doing.

Fenrir trusted her to the point that he could start believing her. Fenrir wasn't stupid, he knew to approach her with caution, but Emma had been playing his game every day.

Every move she had made had been incredibly calculated over the past two weeks. It started as a way to make sure that Fenrir kept her safe before it slowly shifted. Her plan wasn't flawless, not in the least, but it was a start. A lot would depend on when Fenrir forced her to decide and how that negotiation went, but she was confident. She was going to be the one to ruin Fenrir, and it was going to be spectacular.

He didn't know that she had the very piece of information that could tear apart everything he had built. Knowing his name meant discovering his true identity and gave her the very blackmail she needed to keep him where she wanted. He had done the exact same thing to so many people over the years. It was time that someone returned the favor. It was funny that the things Fenrir taught her growing up were going to be what led to his end.

For a moment, Emma considered using Greyson as her last-ditch bargaining chip, but she couldn't do that. Greyson didn't ask for Fenrir to be his father in the same way she didn't ask to have Fenrir even in her life. She knew that what she was doing was dangerous, and she wasn't about to drag someone else in if she didn't have to. Emma had done more than enough damage on that front. There was a strong possibility that he would still kill her anyway, but she would be damned if she didn't try to get her win in the end.

If Emma did things right, she could come to terms with the things she would have to do well before they ever had to happen. As long as she could help others and make their lives easier, it didn't matter. She would join Fenrir's pack if she had to. If it meant she could live another day, it wasn't like she hadn't learned to start finding happiness wherever she was. She was throwing every moral she had entirely out the window, but as long as her family was safe, she didn't care. Emma cared for her family more than anything, and she would do anything for them.

Fenrir would never see it coming.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello greyson fenmore. >:)
> 
> anyway, this chapter quite literally scared me to write. I've known where Emma's story was going to go for a very long time. I knew that there was going to be a series of significant moments that led to the path she would ultimately go on. This chapter was that point for her, and this is where everything changes. I've said time and time again that this isn't a happy story, but there is happiness in the end. I think it goes without saying that things are going to be interesting from this point forward.
> 
> I have quite literally been terrified to introduce Greyson - on both ends. I always knew Fenrir was going to have an entirely different name. His son was a concoction earlier this year. Baby Grey wasn't meant to make an appearance until way later in the series. I couldn't wait.
> 
> That all being said, I'll be taking a very very very short break. I have been writing this series for the better part of a year and a half without stopping. It won't be a long break, but I'm going to force myself take one. This story is absolutely not over (do you think I'm going to end this now? PFFFTTTTT).
> 
> I totally suggest joining the Discord in the meantime (all links below), because I'm sure there are words that are wanting to be said. You can find me on all social media at all of the links down below as well if you want to interact with me in the meantime.
> 
> to my late night readers, it's late, go to bed! love you and good night!
> 
> to all of my lovely and wonderful readers who have followed me thus far, thank you thank you, thank you. You are honestly all fantastic and amazing and I cannot thank you enough for sticking around with me. A few of you have been here since the beginning, a few of you are new - I'm incredibly blessed to have you all.
> 
> Have an excellent rest of 2020, and here's to 2021!
> 
> **come find me on:**   
>  [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/mymoonyandstars)   
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> 
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> 


	33. Hope for the Best, Expect the Worst

Platform 9 ¾ was as loud as Emma always remembered. The nearby engine rumbled loudly, the steam rising from the smokestack hissed loudly, and it seemed as though the chatter around her was growing louder.

Emma was decidedly not ready to go back to Hogwarts like she thought but having to spend any longer with Fenrir was a miserable prospect. Fenrir had already gotten her up nearly an hour earlier than she needed to be just to make sure that she had truly packed correctly. He appeared genuinely amused when Emma started to yell at him, and the moment she finished talking, Fenrir was on her.

Fenrir shoved her hard against the wall, one of his massive hands pinning her shoulder. He grabbed onto her chin roughly with his other hand, and he bent low, head tilting slightly as his face twisted into his signature smile. She had wondered if the Fenrir she hated would make an appearance, and Emma wished that he hadn't. Nothing like being threatened by Fenrir shortly after waking up, she supposed. Emma was proud of herself for not being scared of him, at least not until he spoke.

"You ought to be careful, Rabbit," he practically purred. "Not much time left until I can finally shut that pretty little mouth of yours up." He lifted his hand from her shoulder to brush her fringe away from her face. Emma felt a chill go down her spine as Fenrir's eyes shifted down to her lips, and he traced his thumb along her bottom lip. "Only eight more days left, fy lleuad bach…Maybe I'll even be generous and allow you to wait to tell me your decision in person. What do you think of that, Rabbit? We can meet in Hogsmeade and discuss things like adults – like equals?"

It was a challenge, and Emma knew it. She wanted the extra time even if she already knew what she planned to do. Every bit of time she could get was important to her. Emma held Fenrir's gaze for a moment longer, her stomach churning at his little reminder, and then finally looked away. She wasn't going to answer him; if she did, he might change his mind again.

"That's what I thought," he said with a low growl. He leaned in closer to kiss her cheek before finally releasing his hold on her and straightening up. "You'll learn your place quickly, little one."

Emma let out a long breath, forcing herself to bring herself back into the present. She wasn't anywhere near Fenrir, and she could _breathe_ , but she was overwhelmed by the day already. Rather than taking the Floo, Ellis opted to drive to King's Cross, and Emma was the lucky one to sit in the front passenger seat. It at least meant Jude wouldn't be arriving at the platform, she hoped. She glanced over at the Moon clan that was still talking further down the platform. Sage had Apparated to King's Cross and was talking with her children. Elijah's parents were somewhere further along the platform, reuniting with their son before he went to school.

She tapped her foot impatiently on the platform, waiting. She had already said hello to most of the people who bothered to come up to her. The number of people who had stared at her left her sick, and she wasn't looking forward to sitting in the Great Hall with everyone. She had heard the comments made in passing. Emma had talked to the entire Weasley clan, Hermione and Harry. Cedric had come up to her with a huge hug and Luna with her smaller, more compact but equally loving hug. Justin had practically barreled her over, and even Megan and Susan had stopped to greet her. She was just missing the most important person in the world to her.

Remus _promised_ her he would be there, and as she looked down at her watch, she frowned. The train would leave London in twenty minutes, and that was nowhere near enough time with her father for her. The tears that pooled in her eyes were near-instantaneous, and she stared up at the sky. It was going to be a difficult year. Hopefully not as hard as her second year, but she was still worried.

Emma startled slightly as arms wrapped around her from behind, and finally, _finally,_ a very familiar smell of cologne washed over her. She took in a moment to breathe in the familiar woodsy scent and nearly started to cry just from the brief moment she felt at home. Emma leaned back against her father and looked up at him with a sniffle, fully aware she was pouting. She felt so much better meeting green eyes that matched her own, full of love and adoration that her father reserved only for her.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Remus murmured, kissing her forehead.

"I didn't think you were going to come," Emma said, twisting herself around so that she could hug Remus tightly. "I thought you said you would be here sooner."

"I know, baby girl, I'm sorry," Remus said, holding Emma's head to his chest. "I was, er…held up."

"Held up?" Emma questioned. She wanted to look up at Remus, but he kept his hand on her head. Emma sighed, snuggling into Remus's embrace instead. That seemed like a far better use of her time.

"Well…I'll just say that I wasn't expecting my morning to go the way it did," Remus sighed. "I'm all right," he added when he felt Emma tense up. "I just needed to remind someone that they're messing with the wrong family…"

"Daddy, what did you do?" Emma asked slowly.

"I might have…knocked…some sense into Jude," Remus replied just as slowly.

"Daddy, please don't tell me you fought Jude," Emma said, the hint of a smile in her voice. She knew that Remus was secretly a fighter, though no one would ever suspect it with his kind nature. Emma had been speechless when Sirius told her that Remus was the one who did most of the fighting. She thought Remus would deny it, but he only turned red and kept silent. Her father was absolutely brilliant.

"Then I won't," he said, kissing the top of Emma's head, not bothering to hide his incredibly thinly veiled glee. Emma immediately began to giggle, burying her face into Remus's chest. He had wanted to get to Jude for weeks, and she didn't blame him for taking the time to annoy Jude. "He won't say a word to anyone. It sounds as though you've, much to my distress, have made some new allies. The fact I can even call them that – you have a gift, love. It scares me."

"He keeps getting bullied by werewolves," she giggled, leaning back to look up at Remus with a smile. "It's brilliant."

"Well, better him than you, sweetheart," Remus said, cupping Emma's face between his hands. "How are you feeling?"

"Nervous," Emma said, closing her eyes tightly for a moment and taking a deep breath. "We should be going back together again. I don't know how I'm going to get through this year without you."

"You dealt with an entire summer with Greyback and half a summer with Jude," Remus said sadly. "I think that's far worse than what you'll experience at school."

"At least I won't have to deal with rogue Cruciatus curses," Emma muttered with a slight pout. "I suppose that's a bonus, but I don't know what to do when I just want to be with you. It's not like I have somewhere to escape."

A soft smile crossed Remus's face. "Did our time with the map not teach you anything? You have plenty of places to hide, love," Remus said. "You just have to pick your hiding spot."

"But Harry has the map."

"Ask him to borrow it – you're the new Marauders, now," Remus said.

"Well, I certainly hope that I make Moony and Padfoot proud."

"They certainly are – I promise," Remus chuckled. "I think Moony is proudest of all."

"Moony's only going to be proud for a little over a week," Emma mumbled, pulling herself away from Remus. "I think Soleil is going to make a really stupid decision, but it's…" Emma's eyes widened as she remembered the night she went to find Persephone, and she grabbed tightly to Remus's hand. "I haven't been able to tell you everything I learned yet, but I can't tell you out here like this."

A frown crossed Remus's face as he studied Emma's wide-eyed expression. "Why not?" he asked.

"There are too many ears," Emma said, with a pointed glance in Ellis's direction. "I'm not meant to know, and I, er…just trust me on this one."

Remus nodded, looking concerned. "Write to me then. That will be the safest option," Remus said. "The moment you're in your dorm and settled – write to me. Don't write to me on the train if it's important. Unless you feel I need to know before you arrive, keep what you know guarded."

"Emma!"

Emma turned around and was almost knocked over by a very excited Finley, who launched herself into Emma's arms.

"Hi, Finn," Emma laughed, holding the girl tight. Was she ever this excited at eleven? She glanced over her shoulder at Remus, and the fond smile on his face indicated that she must have been. Emma hugged Finley a little tighter. "How are you? I missed you, you know."

"I missed you, too!" Finley said, letting go of Emma and bouncing on the balls of her feet in pure delight. "I'm so excited! I can't wait to see Hogwarts! And I can't wait to get sorted! And I can't wait to see everything!" Finley giggled and leaned in close to Emma to say in a stage whisper, "And I really can't wait for you to show me the giant squid!"

"I'm sure my Papa will be very delighted to hear I'm making the squid new friends. He loved the squid," Emma said in amusement.

"Have you seen Raewyn? I want to see Raewyn! Oh, I bet she's so excited!" Finley chirped, looking around excitedly. "What about Brennan?"

"Oh, no, I haven't," Emma said, humming to herself. She took a look around the platform curiously. There was a strong possibility that they could have gotten on the train already. After all, Emma didn't know who their parents were and wouldn't know if they were still around.

Finley looked momentarily crestfallen and then perked up just as quickly. "It's all right," she said brightly. "They probably just got really busy. I haven't heard from them in almost two weeks."

Remus was the one who picked up on just how wrong that sounded well before Emma did. He gave the back of Emma's shirt a gentle tug, and she looked at him with curiosity. It was almost funny to Emma how they had managed to learn how to have silent conversations with each other. She searched her father's eyes for a moment, slowly beginning to understand what he was thinking, and a chill ran down her spine. _He couldn't have._

"Finn, do you know _exactly_ when you last heard from them?" Emma asked as she turned back to Finley.

"The 21st, I think. I wrote a few times after but haven't heard back."

Emma's blood ran cold at the implication of what that meant. The 21st was the full moon, and if Finley hadn't heard from Raewyn and Brennan…

 _He didn't_. There was no way that Fenrir had gone over the children. He had threatened to go after them, she knew that, but _Fenrir couldn't have._ He was with her for most of the night. He didn't smell of blood, and there were no traces of it in his fur. Fenrir wouldn't have been able to resist himself for two children if he had gone after them. There was absolutely no way he would have done that to her, would he? He couldn't be so stupid to do such a thing knowing that it would mean she would never join the pack. Fenrir knew her well enough to know that would have changed her mind completely.

"Well, maybe they were busy," Emma said, grimacing at the shrill warning horn from the train. "Finn, why don't you head on and find somewhere to sit? I'll, uhm…I'll come try and find you in a bit. Maybe they're on the train already."

Finley was none the wiser and smiled. "I'll see you on the train!" she chirped. "Nice to see you again, Mr. Lupin!" she added before skipping towards her parents.

Emma whipped back around to look at Remus the moment Finley was far enough away.

"Daddy, _he was with me_ ," Emma said, trying to ignore the look on Remus's face. He was disturbed the first time she mentioned it to him and clearly still hated the idea. She didn't blame him for hating it – the only time he had seen Fenrir as a wolf as a human was when he was turned. The very idea that Fenrir _didn't_ turn her left Remus reeling. "He transformed with the pack and came right to me! I know that he said –" Emma took in a deep breath, grabbing onto Remus to steady herself. "He _wouldn't_ ," she added, almost pleadingly.

"But that doesn't mean he didn't send someone else," Remus said, his forehead wrinkling as he tried to think. He swallowed hard, his face paling. "He's calculated, love. I'm just hoping that you missed them, but…"

"Hope for the best, expect the worse," Emma said quietly, finishing the rest of Remus's sentence for him. Remus nodded, and Emma huffed out a breath, launching herself back into his arms. "He better not have done anything to them…"

Remus sighed, pressing multiple kisses to the top of Emma's head. "Try not to think about it. Just…" Remus trailed off with a long breath. "We have to hope that it will be fine."

Emma nodded, squeezing harder to Remus when the train gave its final warning. "I don't want to go," she said quietly. "I don't want to know. I don't want to have to deal with everyone…Can I please just stay home with you? We can just run off and leave a note for Papa to find us. You know he would figure out where to go."

"If only," Remus whispered. "If we leave, then it will be a literal witch hunt through the entire world. Well, suppose it would be a werewolf hunt, really."

"As if it's any different with Papa now?"

"I know, sweetheart, I know. Believe me, I want nothing more than to do exactly that, but it's not wise, not right now. You'll be safer at school, and hopefully, someday soon, everything will be all right. We'll all get to be a family again. I feel sure of it."

"I certainly hope you're right."

"I know I am."

Stepping foot onto the Hogwarts Express hit Emma hard. She was officially going back to Hogwarts without her father. She would be labeled as a werewolf by her peers, and it would be a challenge to deal with. She stood in the doorway as the train started to move, wondering whether she would be better off staying there the entire time. Emma doubted that she would be too welcome, and she had no idea where she could sit. She looked down at the small package of chocolate bars Remus had pressed into her hand before pushing her towards the train, and she sighed. At least she had chocolate to keep her company if she couldn't find anywhere else to sit. That was a consolation prize.

It was mildly frustrating that not only did she have Remus's words sitting in the back of her mind, but she had Fenrir's as well. They both said the same thing – ignore everyone else, you're beautiful, do what you're supposed to do. But that was much easier said than done. Her father had relative anonymity while in school, though his predicament wasn't easy to work with, and Fenrir just didn't care. It was probably the most unhelpful advice she had ever gotten in her life. She wished that she had a chance to talk to Elara before leaving for school. At least Elara would have had genuinely helpful advice.

She blinked back her tears and straightened up, squaring her shoulders. Just like Sirius tried to teach her to do, she would have to fake her confidence until she genuinely felt it. No one would need to know she was on the brink of tears and that her stomach was churning like the sea in a storm.

Passing by each compartment made Emma feel like she was in a strange zoo or an aquarium. The occupants would see who was passing by, see it was her, and immediately begin to talk or just stare at her. She didn't mind when the compartment doors were closed, but the conversations weren't kind when they were open.

"What happened to her _face_?" was heard multiple times along with "It's the werewolf" and "Why is _she_ allowed to come back?"

Emma couldn't help but feel as though she had inadvertently fallen from grace. She had been the Defense Professor's darling angel, and now she was considered unworthy of walking the halls of Hogwarts. The fall out after Remus left had been miserable, but the Prophet hadn't helped at all. She was silently grateful that Fenrir had ripped the paper out of her hand every time he saw her pick it up. As curious as she was to find out if there was another article, Emma didn't think she wanted to know.

After the seventh consecutive comment about her as she passed, Emma hiked her bag on her shoulder and walked a little faster. She would have to make the trip to Hogwarts as productive as possible. There were a lot of things she needed to accomplish that year, and Emma needed as much information as she could get. As much as Emma wanted to find Raewyn and Brennan, she needed to talk to Persephone; she had the most information of all. The real question was would Persephone tell her everything she needed to know?

"Lupin!" Emma heard a voice drawl as she walked past a compartment. She stopped to turn around to find Draco standing in the compartment door.

"What do you want, Draco?" Emma asked, already exhausted. She looked past Draco to find Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, Theo, and Blaise staring at her. That was unfortunate. Needing something to do with her hands, Emma started to put her chocolate away and immediately frowned.

When did Fenrir find the time to add his coat to her bag? At least that meant he paid attention to her when she said she couldn't find a new coat. She knew his coat would have strong, lasting charms added, and despite being huge on her small frame, it would be warm. Perhaps this time she wouldn't tear it apart.

"I have somewhere I need to be," Emma said when Draco didn't immediately answer.

"Well, aren't you rude," he scoffed. He looked back at Theo, who reached down for something on the floor and handed it to Draco.

"Mother's asked me to give this to you," he said, holding out a medium-sized parcel and an envelope to Emma. "Haven't a clue why, though."

Emma frowned as she slowly took the box from Draco. She had no idea why Narcissa would be writing to her or what she would give her. The package was heavier than Emma expected it to be and she was surprised. Whatever it was, it was wrapped in emerald green paper and tied with a silver bow – how very Slytherin. She looked at the envelope, her frown deepening when she read the words _Toujours pur._ When she looked up at Draco, he was staring at her hard.

"What?" Emma asked, lifting the flap of her bag to tuck the gift into her bag. She stared at the envelope for a moment, brushing her fingers over the words. Did Narcissa know?

"Why did Mother write the Black family motto on the envelope?" Draco questioned.

"Trying to learn about Mummy's secrets now, Draco?" Emma asked, raising an eyebrow. "How do you think she would feel about knowing that?"

"You've clearly got secrets of your own, Lupin," Draco said.

"And what exactly is _that_ supposed to mean?" Emma asked, putting the envelope in her bag and crossing her arms.

"You know exactly what that means," Draco said, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't, thank you," Emma huffed. There were a few things Draco could be talking about, and she wasn't sure she cared to know exactly what it was he was referring to. "And if you don't mind, I have somewhere to be."

Emma continued on her way, ignoring Draco as he called after her. She didn't care to know what he had to say, although she was curious to know what Narcissa would give her. She had to know that they were related, but how? Did Sage tell her? They were all cousins, but it seemed odd that Sage would say a word, but what did Emma know? Everything seemed to change every day

Persephone was a few cars back, which was mildly annoying. She had to walk by far too many people, and the moment Persephone saw Emma outside the compartment, she paled. Persephone leaned over Daphne's lap and slowly cracked over the compartment door, giving Emma a sheepish grin.

"Hi," Persephone said quietly. "D-did you need somewhere to sit?"

"I do, but I need to talk to you," Emma said pointedly. "I'm not waiting until we get all the way to school."

Persephone stood up slowly, casting Tracey and Daphne small smiles. She stepped outside the compartment and motioned for Emma to lead the way. The two walked in relative silence, Emma purposely ignoring every compartment they passed. She looked up just long enough to wave at Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they passed, and then Fred, George, Lee, and two of the girls on the Gryffindor team. She wondered how Figaro was doing with Luna…

They found an empty compartment all the way at the back of the train, and Emma went in quickly. Persephone followed, locking the door behind her and casting a muffling charm. She stared at Emma for a moment and then sat down.

"So," Persephone said slowly, "where do you want me to start?"

"No idea," Emma said quietly. "There's…a lot we need to talk about. But I think there's only one logical place to start right now. Let's start with Greyson, though. What's the deal with him?"

Persephone nodded, taking a deep breath and crossing her arms. "Well, he's a bit like you, really," Persephone said quietly. "Orphaned, but not really. His mum apparently met Fenrir at some pub, and they had a relationship for a bit – an actual relationship. She knew what he was and everything and didn't care."

"Was she his mate?"

"Fenrir had a mate?"

"Yeah," Emma said quietly. "Said he had one at the beginning of the war."

"If Fenrir had a mate, she might've been just before Greyson's mum then," Persephone said, worrying her lip between her teeth. "That would make sense, at least. A mate would imply that she was a werewolf, wouldn't it? Either way, no – she was a Muggle woman, actually. She apparently pissed Fenrir off at some point. He attacked her – not transformed, mind, and then left her for dead. Turned out she was pregnant with Greyson. She wound up passing away sometime after giving birth to Greyson. His aunt took him in and raised him like a Muggle."

"And he's not a –"

"No. Oh, Merlin, he absolutely hates werewolves, if you couldn't tell. He doesn't even have any wolfish qualities like you do because his blood wasn't infected with lycanthropy like yours was. Your situation is so much different, and werewolves are made, after all, not born," Persephone said. "Well, unless you count the whole two werewolves getting together during the full moon thing, of course. But those are actual wolves, no? Regardless, I think Greyson would rather die than be a werewolf."

"So, he knows who his father is, then?"

"His aunt didn't want to keep the information from him. Apparently told him just before he started at Hogwarts out of fear Fenrir would try to find him."

"This is unreal," Emma said after a long pause, a frown crossing her face. "Greyson's mother was attacked, _and she kept Fenrir's child?_ That's absolutely mental."

"Greyson didn't really understand it either," Persephone replied. "He said his aunt said they loved each other. I can see that Fenrir loves you in his own way, so he's clearly capable of love in some capacity, so maybe. Perhaps it was a full moon when Fenrir went mental, but Greyson doesn't know what to believe. Greyson loves his aunt and believes her, but could never understand how you could hurt someone you loved. He harbors a lot of resentment towards Fenrir, especially for never being around."

"God, that's so incredibly fucked up," Emma groaned. "I was practically raised by his father, and the entire time he's existed. I mean, I wouldn't ever want to subject anyone to that, but…I can understand why he's angry."

"I know."

Emma and Persephone stared at each other for a long moment, neither of them knowing what to say. Emma's face twisted up slightly the more she thought about things.

"Greyson Fenmore," Emma whispered to herself, testing the name out. "Was he named after Fenrir or another family member?"

"Fenrir," Persephone breathed out. "I was hoping you would pick up on that. The whole 'the second' thing started as a joke as Greyson can sometimes act like a right snob. We used to joke that he was the reigning king of Slytherin."

"He sounds like a dream," Emma muttered.

"He's really not terrible at all," Persephone replied. "You two just had a rough go of it. If you met him our first year, you would have loved him from the start."

"I doubt it. Remember how long it took for me to be able to handle dealing with _you_? And just think – somewhere in my mind, I knew that I knew you already, but I couldn't stand you."

"I think that was because we got into a fight just before the last time we saw each other," Persephone said, worrying her lip. "Might have gotten angry with me when I said I wasn't sure if we were going to see each other again."

Emma frowned slightly, trying to pull up the memory. A sad smile crossed her face when she made the connection. They had indeed gotten into a huge fight over it. It was just before term let out for her primary for the summer, and her heart had shattered into a million pieces when Persephone told her.

"Well…that's all done and over with," Emma said quietly. "Does Greyson have a middle name?"

"Er, it's Randolph. Greyson Randolph Fenmore."

Emma nearly burst into a fit of giggles. "Greyson _Randolph_ Fenmore," she snickered. "That's an abysmal name for a werewolf. No bloody wonder Fenrir changed it, but clever, no? Barely had to change his name at all."

"It's Fenrir. What do you expect? That's how he is."

"Hmm," Emma hummed softly, her smile plastered to her face. "Hey, Eff, do you think when I'm forced into my arranged marriage with Fenrir, I'll go by Fenmore or Greyback?"

It was Persephone's turn to stare at Emma.

"Oh, shit," she said slowly. She looked as though she was working through a difficult puzzle, and it was making Emma nervous. Persephone tilted her head slowly as she looked at Emma. "I wonder…"

"What? You wonder what?" Emma asked, crossing her arms.

"Well, you just reminded me of what Trelawney –"

"No!" Emma shouted, pointing a finger at Persephone. She knew exactly where Persephone was about to take the conversation and began shaking her head. It had been a long time since Emma had thought about that particular class, and they had gone through the conversation multiple times. Trelawney was mental – there was no way it could be possible. "Absolutely _not_."

"Emma, you and Greyson would be _perfect_! I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner!"

"Effie, nothing, and I mean _absolutely nothing_ , would _ever_ convince me that Greyson fucking Randolph Fenmore is meant to be my future husband. It came from _Trelawney,_ and we all know how she is!"

"But Emma, it fits! He has the blood of –"

"No! _Greyson Fenmore will never be my husband._ "

Persephone crossed her arms as she studied Emma closely. She let out a grumpy, "Humph!" and then crossed her legs. "Emma Fenmore sounds lovely," Persephone said. "And technically, if you were to marry Fenrir, you're _still_ marrying Greyson Fenmore…just the older one."

Emma groaned, scrubbing her hands down her face. Everything was getting stranger and stranger, and she wanted to start researching right away. She needed to know everything.

"Would you believe it, Fen wound up giving me his name already?" Emma asked, flopping over sideways onto the seat to lay down. "He told me that I would have been Emma Fenmore if he would have taken me. Emma Hope Fenmore." Emma's face twisted as she shot Persephone a look. "It's terrifying because it doesn't sound half bad."

"See? Then you have to marry Greyson and not Fenrir!"

"I don't really have a choice with Fenrir," Emma said quietly. She lifted her left hand to look at the ring on her finger. "I mean, it's not exactly marriage with werewolves, and certainly not what Fenrir wants. He just wants children, I think…among other things, but children are certainly high up on his list of priorities."

"You're not…"

"Effie, I don't know," Emma sighed. "I really don't know. I'm certainly not interested in having his children. I would never be interested in that. But things are changing though, aren't they?"

"What do you mean?" Persephone asked, sounding slightly nervous.

"Voldemort's going to come back, isn't he?"

Persephone swallowed hard and wrapped her arms tightly around herself, shoulders slumping.

"What makes you think that?" Persephone asked quietly. "There's no reason why you should think that."

"I just spent the past two weeks with Fenrir," Emma said pointedly. She wasn't going to bring up what she heard, wanting Persephone to tell her herself. "He tells me things when he thinks I should know it."

"He actually _told_ you that?"

"He said he doesn't want me on the wrong side of things…kept trying to convince me that being with the werewolves was smarter. Fen said it would be safer if Dad and I were with him at this point."

"And what do you think?"

Emma huffed out a laugh as she sat up. "I think if Voldemort is going to return, then we're all going to be in trouble," Emma said quietly. "At first, I thought Fen was lying to me, just trying to find reasons to convince me to join him, but then I really thought about it. Jude left St. Mungo's for a reason. I don't think it's just because of me, although I'm a big part of it…" Emma trailed off, waiting for Persephone to say something. Emma left the opportunity for Persephone to say something, but she remained silent.

"So, where are you going to sit?" Persephone asked, shifting nervously, changing the subject. "Long ride back to Hogwarts."

To say Emma was disappointed would be a disappointment, but she ignored the sinking feeling in her stomach. "I think I'm going to compartment hop," Emma said quietly. "Luna has Figaro for me. I'll probably see George and then maybe find Justin. Dunno. The year's already weird. I think I'd really rather just be by myself, honestly. Fenrir was like my bloody shadow, and I had no time to myself."

"That sounds a bit lonely, no?"

"Well, I have a feeling the entire year is going to be a bit lonely," Emma replied with a small shrug. "Figured I should get used to it now…"

Persephone nodded and stood up slowly, smoothing out her clothes. "Are you…are you going to be all right?" she asked. "This year, you know? I don't want to have a repeat of second year."

"Not sure," Emma admitted. "I don't think I'd ever go that far again. I mean, I think Fen would literally figure out how to bring me from the dead just to kill me himself." Emma allowed herself to laugh at that. Fenrir was so obsessed with her that she had no doubt that Fenrir would figure out how to do it, and it wouldn't be pretty. "But besides that, I don't have my favorite place to go anymore. It's not like I can run to Dad's office to have a cwtch and have him tell me that things will be all right."

"Well, you know where to find me," Persephone said quietly. "I'd rather you not, but…we might not be sisters, but we _are_ family no matter what. That has to count for something, right?"

Emma nodded and waved Persephone off. Persephone clearly didn't want to stay with her any longer than she needed to, and Emma was curious to see what Narcissa's gift was. The moment Emma felt Persephone was far enough, she dove back into her bag to pull out the box and the envelope. She carefully split the envelope to pull out the notecard.

> _I thought that these gifts would be important for you to have. I think they will be in the right hands, and I know that you would never receive these otherwise. I do not know how things came to be, but I have long since learned to stop questioning everything. Despite my cousin's views, I am willing to consider you family as you have done nothing wrong._
> 
> _I apologize for my behavior at the Quidditch World Cup, but I was taken entirely off guard. I believe we all were that day. I wasn't expecting to meet you, and I wish we could have spent more time getting to know each other. However, I understood your need to stay away. You made the right choice, no matter where it was you went off to._
> 
> _I hope that you will accept these gifts, they belong to you now. I believe you'll understand why I didn't send them to you sooner and instead sent them with Draco. The fewer who know, the better. It wouldn't do well if these were to fall into the wrong hands._
> 
> _Toujours pur,_
> 
> _Narcissa_

Emma sighed, reading through the note two more times before setting it aside. Clearly Narcissa was someone else who knew who she was without outright saying it. Emma stared at the box next to her for a moment before pulling it close. What would suddenly belong to her? She carefully pulled apart the ribbon and the wrapping paper.

Emma let out a soft gasp as she opened the box. There was a much smaller box hidden within the confines and something made of a woven fabric folded neatly. Emma stood up, set the small box aside, and pulled the fabric out of the box, and gasped once more when she was what it was. It took her a moment to process what she was looking at, but then she realized that it was a smaller version of the Black family tapestry. It was a recreation of the one that lived in Sirius's childhood home, but it was the Black family tapestry all the same. Narcissa had given her a beautiful gift, and Emma was appreciative of it.

When Sirius told her of the tapestry, she wasn't expecting something with such beautiful artistry. Then again, what else would one of the wealthiest wizarding families spend their money on if not for ornate pieces of work? Emma followed the tree branches' weaving lines, the smallest of smiles crossing her face when she found Sirius. This tapestry hadn't been affected like the massive one in Sirius's childhood home, and his face remained. He looked just as he did in older photos and looked so similar to Regulus. The pained way Sirius spoke of Regulus almost made her wish that she could have met – how weird to say – her uncle. Taking a deep breath, Emma's eyes traced the branch from Sirius, and her breath caught when she found herself.

Fenrir had actually done exactly as he said.

There, woven into the Black family tapestry's very fabric, was an artistic rendition of herself. _Her_ name was written underneath the banner. Emma _Black_.

If Emma hadn't lived her entire life in an identity crisis, she would have been distressed, but instead, she found it hysterical. The very name Sirius _didn't_ want her to have was the one she had – literally spelled onto the tapestry by whatever magic controlled it. She had to set the tapestry down as she burst into laughter before she suddenly burst into tears. Emma sank down to the floor, wiping hard at her eyes as her tears kept coming between her laughter. She was simultaneously horrified and beyond relieved.

She _wasn't_ a Nickels. She would _never_ be a Nickels again because it was impossible with what she was. Until she married, if she ever did, she would _always_ be a Black. Just as she was a Lupin, _no one_ was ever going to be able to take that away from her. She was Emma Hope Lupin-Black regardless of whether or not a piece of paper said that she was. But that made things that much more difficult. _No one could ever know_.

Narcissa sent her the tapestry to help her maintain that silence. Emma thought back to Professor McGonagall questioning how she wanted her name to be listed, and she realized her school registry must have changed. If her school registry had changed, what was the issue with the Ministry? Shouldn't there be a record of her being a Black _somewhere_ at the Ministry? Why was Jude given the opportunity to gain custody of her if that was the case?

The thought seemed stupid the moment it crossed her mind. She knew why Jude was allowed to try and gain custody. Jude wasn't a werewolf, _nor_ was he a convicted felon on the run. With just those two odds stacked against her, Jude was the next best choice if no one else stepped forward. How was Fenrir ever expecting her to use her name to get out of Jude gaining custody of her?

Wiping her eyes again, Emma pulled the tapestry off the seat to look at it. Was Fenrir's plan for her to go to a different family if she couldn't go home? Was doing such a massive favor for her his way of creating a contingency plan if she had failed that day? Knowing Fenrir, he had at least five different plans in place for if she failed, but she had skipped over every single one of those plans. She skipped from plan A to plan Z in a matter of moments, but what could Fenrir's plan have possibly been in the first place? He was frustratingly tight-lipped on what his plans were, which Emma found stupid if the moment had already passed.

She couldn't have gone to the Weasleys, who she noticed was entirely absent from the tree – a decent enough sign they weren't too close in blood like she'd worried about. The Ministry already said no to her going to the Longbottom's. She doubted that he would have wanted her to go to the Crabbe's, and she knew nothing of the Crouch's. Who else could it possibly be? Emma scanned and scanned the tapestry until her eyes suddenly fell on the Black sisters. Bellatrix was in Azkaban. She didn't know Andromeda other than her being Sirius's favorite cousin, but she had at least _known_ of Narcissa, and then it clicked for her.

_Fenrir wanted her to go to the Malfoy's._

That would have been the much safer option out of everyone. No one would have questioned the Malfoy family's involvement if she had gone to them. The Malfoy's made sizable donations to different organizations that no one would have suspected…the entirety of the wizarding community would have seen her as a charity case. None of them would have realized they were, or at least Narcissa would be, taking care of a family member.

Emma couldn't figure out what would possess Fenrir to ever think that she would have figured that one out on her own. He greatly underestimated her…relationship…with Draco in the "before" times, before all of this came to be. Her friendship with Draco had become strained, at best. They could be friendly, but it wasn't the silent friendship and respect they had once had, but would she need to bring that back? Trying to be friends with Draco again seemed absolutely miserable, but he wasn't _terrible_ when he wasn't arrogant. It was when his arrogance came into the equation that he aggravated her.

Wiping her face clear of the last of her tears, Emma carefully folded the tapestry back up and tucked it back into the box. She leaned forward from her spot on the floor and pulled over the small box with a slight frown. It was clearly a jewelry box. It was made of dark emerald velvet, and Emma pulled off the top with a soft gasp. Sitting tucked in the plush, velvet ring cushion was a Black family signet ring.

It was a brilliant silver color, the Black family crest emblazoned on the front just like the ring Draco wore with the Malfoy crest. Along either side of the crest, on the band, were engraved dogs meant to look as though they were holding the crest. Curious, Emma pulled the ring out of the box to inspect it closer. Engraved on the inside of the band was the Black family motto, and Emma huffed out a laugh. Nothing could be less pure than her with her blood. Fenrir was right – Walburga, _her grandmother_ , would have a fit if she knew Emma existed.

Emboldened by the compartment's relative privacy, Emma decided to slip the ring onto her right hand just as she had seen her pure-blood classmates wear their rings. The ring sized itself to her finger, and Emma was awed by the _possibilities._ She would never be a pure-blood, that was impossible with how mixed her blood was, _but she was a Black_. And oh, Merlin, just how complicated had things just become?

On the one hand, she could find it in herself to love Fenrir for doing such an incredible thing for her, but on the other, he had made things worse. After being told that it was best if people didn't know her identity, she had no idea how she was supposed to use it to her advantage. Emma could always be Emma Lupin, which she preferred over everything, but Emma _Black_? Even Narcissa realized the same issue. The tapestry she sent Emma had to be _her_ tapestry, and Emma's stomach sank at the idea other tapestries existed somewhere else. Who off of the family tree would care to own one?

As quickly as she had placed the ring on her finger was as quickly as she pulled it off and tucked it back in its box. She put the small box back with the tapestry, shoved Narcissa's letter into the larger box, and closed everything, shoving it back into her bag. Remus was going to completely lose it when she told him. _Sirius_ was going to completely lose it.

"I'm Emma Hope Lupin-Black," Emma whispered to herself, her smile widening before she shook her head. It was too much of a mouthful. "I'm Emma Hope Lupin," she corrected herself. "Sorry, Papa. I'm at least yours by blood now…"

It was such a ridiculous revelation to be made while sitting on the floor of a very lonely compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Then again, it seemed incredibly appropriate to be making the discovery that in everything but Ministry paperwork, she was officially, undeniably, truly both of her father's daughter. How was it _Fenrir_ of all people in the world who had made that happen to her? She huffed out a soft laugh, happiness sweeping through her in brilliant, dazzling waves. Curious, Emma pulled out her wand from her bag and closed her eyes, pulling every happy feeling she had.

" _Expecto patronum_ ," she whispered when she opened her eyes, smiling as her Patronus burst forth from her wand and sat close by, not having anywhere to go. It was an incredibly flashy display of her happiness, but it was proof that she _was_ happy. Despite everything she had gone through, somehow, she was stronger than she was before. Emma allowed the Patronus to stay for a moment, and she eyed it curiously. _Was her Patronus Soleil_? If it was, Fenrir was right – she was beautiful.

She let the Patronus fade, not wanting to think about Fenrir more than she had to that day. Emma had a long list of things to get through, and she just needed to get through the rest of the trip to Hogwarts and her first night back. Everything else would follow.

Emma didn't spend much time in one spot longer than she felt was necessary. She spent a portion of the train ride with Luna and Ginny, the three girls playing happily with Figaro. Emma finally had a moment to truly talk to Colin Creevey, and they spoke happily about photography. When she was done spending time with them, she made a quick stop to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione. She didn't spend much time with them as Draco came back to bother them, and Emma didn't want to deal with him. At least Figaro seemed to find a friend with Crookshanks.

Her journey along the train brought her over to the compartment with George and the others. She allowed everyone to pet Figaro, or rather, Figaro let everyone pet her. Emma nearly let out an exasperated sigh because the cat clearly seemed to favor werewolves over ordinary humans. Emma felt that Fenrir had spoiled the cat a little too much, but there wasn't much she could do. Eventually, Figaro would be fine.

Emma stayed just long enough to answer a few questions about what exactly had happened with her summer before she decided to head back to that lone compartment at the back of the train. As much as she wanted to spend time with Justin, she needed time to herself.

Emma pulled Fenrir's coat out of her bag, folded just as it was, and set it down on the seat. She dug through her bag to find Remus's old Gryffindor cardigan and pulled it on, and decided to lie down for a bit. Figaro happily curled up next to her, rubbing her face wherever she could on Emma's and making her giggle.

"What a pair we are," Emma said quietly to the kitten, scratching gently underneath her chin. "Surrounded by bloody wolves everywhere we turn. Suppose some of them aren't half bad, though, eh?"

The further north they went, the more the rain began to fall. The sky grew steadily darker and darker, and it seemed almost like how Emma was starting to feel. She still didn't know what the fate of the other two children was, and the idea of something happening to them terrified her. Emma wanted nothing more than to write to Remus, but he specifically told her to wait, and that would be what she did. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but it would be foolish of her not to obey. Her father was right – it would be much safer to write to him within the confines of the castle's walls.

Thunder rumbled, and lightning crashed as the train began to make its way into Hogsmeade station. Emma dressed quietly into her robes and stared at Fenrir's coat for a moment. She took a quick look outside her window and decided it would be a much better idea to wear it to the castle. At least she would keep warm and mostly dry. Fenrir's coat went down to her knees, so she was mostly covered and kept safe from the elements.

She stepped off the train with everyone else, frowning up at the heavy pelting rain. Emma was grateful that she wouldn't have to cross the lake to get to Hogwarts like the first years in this weather.

The platform was just as loud as in King's Cross, but when Emma heard her name being called simultaneously by three voices, she turned. Emma could have _wept_ with her pure relief of seeing Raewyn and Brennan bouncing up and down in pure delight with Finley. She didn't even understand how she got to them so fast, but all she cared about was pulling the three first years into a tight hug.

"We slept in!" Brennan said with a laugh, happy to be pulled into their group hug.

"Mum and dad slept through their alarm, and so did we! We got back from a surprise holiday and we were exhausted," Raewyn explained. "They decided to just Apparate us here instead!"

"Good," Emma said, not caring that she seemed mental as she kissed all three on the top of their heads. They were still smaller than her, and she would take advantage of their heights for as long as possible. These three little misfits had unwittingly become a part of her little pack, and if Fenrir had hurt any of them, she had no idea what she would have done. Despite the sharp crack of thunder, the pelting rain, and the strong, blustering wind, Emma was beyond happy. "I'm so glad that you're here."

Even if everyone decided to hate her the entire school year, she had three guaranteed little friends who would stick by her. They had a special bond and an experience that very few of their peers would understand. Perhaps the school year wouldn't be so bad, and maybe, just maybe, every decision she was going to make would be all right in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> news flash. I couldn't last the entirety of my break, but I made it a little over a week, so that's good~
> 
> to my late night readers, please go to sleep! :D
> 
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> 


	34. Returning to the Badger's Sett

Stepping into Hogwarts felt strange after the summer Emma had, and she forced herself to step to the side and take a moment to breathe. Everything about the castle seemed the same, but there was an air of everything be different. In no time at all, it seemed as though everything had changed. Emma didn't know that she could miss Remus any more than she had the entire summer.

For one glorious and mildly painful year, Hogwarts had been her domain with her father – both of them, really. For a short time, she was able to live out the Marauders' legacy, adventuring through the stone walls of the castle with her father at her side. It was something she would have loved to do with Sirius as well, but Remus was her best friend in the entire world; it was bliss.

She felt privileged that she got to see her father in his element, carefree and sarcastic and so incredibly loving. It had been a struggle at the beginning of the year, but by the end, it seemed as though she blinked, and it was time to leave. With Remus at her side, Hogwarts had become home, but now she wasn't so sure.

Emma was in the middle of trying to collect her thoughts and herself when she was suddenly drenched by an unexpected water balloon. She let out an aggravated shout, wiping at her face in annoyance. Her gaze darted from the students walking into the entrance hall being pelted with water balloons and then up to Peeves cackling up in the air. Peeves flipped himself upside down with a wicked cackle and looked at Emma when she shouted his name in aggravation.

"Oi, lookit, it's the wee Loony Loopy Lupin," Peeves said, launching another water balloon into the crowd. "Bet you're _really_ Loony and Loopy now!"

"Buggering _fuck_ , Peeves!" Emma huffed as she watched Peeves continue to launch water balloons. She rolled her eyes and made her way quickly through the crowd so that she could make her way down into the dorms. At least Fenrir's coat – was it her coat, now? – kept her almost entirely dry.

Walking into the mostly empty common room was even stranger than walking into Hogwarts. She made her way into the girl's dorm, took a quick look around, and heaved a heavy sigh. This would have to be home for the next year again, and she wasn't ready for it. Having her own room made her spoiled; she knew that, but it gave her a safety net for when her thoughts were too much. With her own room, she didn't have to hide; here she would. Emma was in the middle of hanging up her coat when her dormmates walked in.

Hannah was front and center with Susan on one side and Leanne on the other with Megan and Sally trailing behind. All five girls immediately stopped talking, slowly coming to halts as they stepped into the room. Each of them slowly traced the scars on her face with their eyes before trying to search for her bites, which were hidden underneath her uniform.

"Emma," Hannah finally said, clearing her throat. "We weren't expecting you to be in here."

"Oh," Emma said slowly. She gave Hannah a funny look before pulling out her wand to cast a drying charm over herself. "Thought I'd just hang up Fe – my – coat." Emma ran her hand through her hair to try and fluff it back up and not stick to her head. She still loved how much easier it was to manage while short. "I, uhm…I'll meet you all upstairs."

Emma made a hasty departure to the Great Hall, feeling uneasy. There was something strange about Hannah's tone that made her worried. What exactly did she mean by saying they weren't expecting her to be there? She tried not to think about it, keeping her head low, as she walked quickly into the Great Hall.

Luckily most people seemed too preoccupied to notice Emma as she walked in, and she searched the table for Justin. Emma let out a sigh and quickly rushed over to where Justin was sitting and practically slid the length of the bench to sit next to him. She heaved another heavy sigh and dropped her head on Justin's shoulder with a slight pout.

"Uh, oh," Justin said, stopping his conversation with Wayne and Ernie for a moment to pat the top of Emma's head. "Someone having a rough time already?"

"Justin, I hate this," Emma said quietly, straightening up and holding herself close. She felt herself grow pale as she noticed Wayne and Ernie across the table, staring at her. Ernie's eyes were narrowed slightly, but Wayne seemed curious.

"Er, how was your summer, Em?" Wayne asked carefully. "I like how you have your hair cut." Emma watched how Wayne tried to avoid staring at her too hard, and she gave him a small smile. She had left Hogwarts looking as whole as she possibly could and returned as someone entirely different.

"I'd rather wait for the feast to start to tell everyone," Emma said quietly, grinning up as Justin slung his arm around her shoulders.

"I remembered from last time," he said, making sure that his arm wasn't dropped over the bite on her shoulder. "Do they still hurt?"

"A bit, yeah," Emma admitted, looking down at her left hand and frowning slightly at Fenrir's ring. She couldn't stand looking at it – it made her feel like she was married to him, but she was curious to see how different her magic would be. At the very least, it helped to ease the pain she still sometimes felt from her bites. "Not like before, though. I stopped needing potions every day to help. That was nice, at least."

"Well, that's good, then," Justin said happily, pulling Emma closer and shooting Ernie a look. Emma felt relieved that at least _one_ person in Hufflepuff was still her friend.

Justin slowly picked up his conversation with Ernie and Wayne as the rest of their classmates filed into the Great Hall. Emma was more than content listening to everyone else talk and took a look around the room. She had been worried that people would be overly focused on her, but tucked into Justin's side, she blended in. Emma was facing the Gryffindor table, and she gave George a small wave as he sat down with Fred. He cast her a funny look but then smiled and gave her a wave as he sat next to Lee.

Out of pure instinct, Emma looked up at the staff table to look for Remus, and her breath caught when she remembered he wouldn't be there. Her chest tightened painfully, and she allowed herself a small sniffle as her eyes welled up as she scanned the table. Everyone seemed to be accounted for, but there was one extra seat missing. Were they unable to replace her father's position? Emma sincerely hoped so because no one would be better than him.

Cedric sat down on her other side, and he gave her knee a gentle squeeze. "Hey, Emma," he said softly. "How are you doing?"

"All right," she said, pulling herself out from underneath Justin's arm. She looked pointedly over at the staff table. "I miss Dad. I know he's not here, but I just looked for him like he would be sitting up there."

"It's going to be weird without him around," Cedric admitted. "And how's he been?"

"Well, I hope he's been all right…Only saw him for the fifteen minutes this morning."

"What do you mean?"

The doors to the Great Hall opened, and a hushed silence fell as Professor McGonagall led the long line of first years in.

"I'll explain later," Emma said quietly to Cedric as she scanned through the new first years. A smile crossed her face as she found her three first years with varying expressions on their faces. They looked equal parts terrified and excited and were soaking wet. Emma almost wanted to question whether there was a sudden policy of having the first years cross the lake by swimming instead of the boats.

As Professor McGonagall set the stool with the Sorting Hat down, everyone turned their attention to the front of the room. Emma still felt that the Sorting Hat's song was one of the strangest Hogwarts traditions, but it was fascinating to see what it had to say. The moment the hat stopped its song, the Great Hall erupted into applause, and Professor McGonagall unrolled her parchment. The Sorting would finally begin.

The Hufflepuff table erupted in excited applause as Eleanor Branstone was sorted into their house, followed by Owen Cauldwell. Emma couldn't wait to see where her three would be sorted. The group of first years grew smaller and smaller until finally -

"Irisborn, Finley!"

Emma watched with bated breath as Finley stepped up to the Sorting Hat. She wondered if she looked just as small stepping up to the hat, and her smile only grew at the thought. The hat was taking its time with Finley until finally –

" _HUFFLEPUFF!_ "

The Hufflepuffs clapped, but no one clapped harder than Emma. Finley nearly tripped over her robe to rush over to Emma, who gestured for Cedric to move over. Emma felt so much like a proud mother and pulled Finley down next to her and gave her a huge hug.

"Welcome to your new home, Finn," Emma said, keeping her arm around Finley's shoulders. "I'll introduce you to everyone, but let's see where the others go."

Professor McGonagall continued to call out names, and Emma watched Brennan and Raewyn with curiosity. It felt like it was taking forever to get to them, and Emma wanted to know if she was right with her initial thoughts.

"Stratford, Brennan!"

Brennan looked terrified as he stepped up to the hat even though he knew what would happen. Emma had told the three first years what would happen, but clearly, it was still scary. If the first years had to deal with the same rumors she did, she didn't blame them for being scared.

" _RAVENCLAW!_ "

Emma was thoroughly surprised as she watched Brennan make his way to the Ravenclaw table. She was so sure that Brennan would be a Gryffindor, but the Sorting Hat worked in very mysterious ways.

"Stratford, Raewyn!"

Raewyn seemed a bit more confident than her adopted brother. She stepped up to the hat with purpose and sat down, plopping it down on her head.

" _GRYFFINDOR!_ "

Emma was once again surprised. She never expected Raewyn for Gryffindor, but seeing the girl's newfound confidence made Emma realize how wrong she was. At least she was right with Finley.

Finally, a "Whitby, Kevin!" was sorted into " _HUFFLEPUFF!_ " and the Sorting ended. Professor McGonagall gathered up the hat and stool and carried them away.

Professor Dumbledore got to his feet, and everyone shifted their attention once more. He smiled at everyone, and his arms were held open in welcome.

"I have only two words to say to you," he said. " _Tuck in_."

Emma began to laugh at Finley's awed expression as the empty dishes filled themselves magically. She reached out for the mashed potatoes and dropped a spoonful onto Finley's plate.

"Dig in, Finn," Emma said, nudging Finley with her elbow as she took mashed potatoes for herself. "You're going to remember today for forever." Finley smiled brightly at Emma and grabbed whatever she could as Emma gave introductions around the table. It seemed as though most of her housemates seemed keen to avoid her, but Emma tried to not let it bother her.

"Your hair looks nice, Em," Megan said, plastering a smile on her face after Justin and Ernie finished talking about their summer.

"And what did _you_ do this summer, Emma?" Leanne asked, and suddenly several pairs of curious eyes were on her.

"Oh, where to begin," Emma said, humming to herself. She glanced over at Finley, who was watching her curiously. "Well, let me just start at the beginning. First, I was cruelly separated from my father because Snape had to be an absolute cunt and get him arrested just for existing. You lot remember that, right? I remember who bothered to come help me pack at the end of last year. Anyway, I was forced to live back in the children's home I came from, and that's where I met this little one here. My lovely sperm donor made a miracle recovery at St. Mungo's. That same night, I was attacked by Fenrir Greyback – and that didn't include what he tried to do the day before. It was the worst twenty-four hours of my life. _Then_ the Ministry finally decided I could go home for a few weeks, and I actually got to enjoy my summer. But _then_ my sperm donor decided he all of a sudden gave a shit about me and tried to gain custody over my actual father. I spent the past two weeks having to live with Fenrir Greyback with a single two-day break where I got to go home. Sound about right, Cas?"

Caspian turned a bright shade of red when he was addressed, and he turned back to his food. "Yes," he finally muttered after a long pause. There were collective gasps at the realization of just what Emma said and what Caspian confirmed.

"Emma, you were with _Greyback_?" Cedric asked, looking alarmed. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Believe it or not, he was the safer option for me," Emma said quietly, meeting Cedric's horrified expression. "Jude, my sperm donor, is…he's a lot."

"Oh! I heard that Jude's out of St. Mungo's!"

Emma felt herself start to grimace, and she twisted herself in her seat to look at Neville.

"Yeah, Jude's out," Emma said slowly.

"I bet you're happy about it," Neville said with a beaming smile. "I mean, he's your dad and all."

Emma felt nothing but guilt as she took in Neville's delighted look. He wanted to be so happy for her, but he didn't even know the situation.

"I, uhm…"

"He's shit," Emma heard Caspian suddenly say. Emma turned to look at Caspian over her shoulder and cast him a curious look.

"Jude," Caspian said, clearing his throat and straightening up slightly as their audience suddenly grew. "Jude…is shit. He shouldn't have interfered in Emma's life. There's no way that he's Em's dad. If Fenrir wasn't there, there are no guarantees that Emma would even be here."

"There were no guarantees I would even have been here even _with_ Fenrir," Emma pointed out.

"No, but you had a better chance of being alive with Fenrir, regardless."

"You know my Dad works in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, yeah?" Cedric said, still looking alarmed. "Someone could have had Greyback arrested."

Emma couldn't help her laughter. The idea of Fenrir getting arrested was possibly one of the funniest things she had heard, and she clutched hard to her stomach.

"Merlin, Cedric, do you not realize how impossible that is?" Emma asked, wiping her tears away. "Might have gotten him, but he never would have been held down. He's too smart to let that happen. Why do you think he's not in Azkaban already?"

Cedric's frown deepened at the thought. "Well, someone should have known at least."

"It was safer if others didn't know. It's…things are complicated to explain."

"So you side with Greyback then?" Ernie suddenly snapped at Emma. "I mean, why else would you be defending him?"

"No one is defending Fenrir," Emma scoffed. "I'm the last person who would ever do that."

"You call him _Fenrir_!" Ernie shouted, his hold on his fork becoming white-knuckled.

"Because that's his bloody name!" Emma shouted. "Oh, will your pants be in an absolute twist if I tell you that I call him _Fen_?"

"Merlin, you're no better than the rest of them."

"The rest of _who_?" Emma questioned.

"Emma, don't," Justin said, putting a hand on Emma's arm. "You know how Ernie is."

"No, Justin, just like everyone else I've had to deal with, I'm very curious to know what Ernie MacMillan has to say," Emma said, dropping her utensils and crossing her arms and pinning Ernie with her stare. "I'd like to know what absolute shit I get to deal with this year because Ernie won't be the first, and he certainly won't be the last. So, yes, let's hear what the fourth year pure-blood Hufflepuff prince has to say."

"You're not any better than the rest of the werewolves," Ernie sneered. "Like _your_ kind."

"Tell me, Ern," Emma said, leaning towards Ernie with a dark chuckle. "Did you or did you not say that my father was the best Defense professor that we had at the beginning of last year?"

"Yes, but –"

"Did you or did you not say that you hoped that he would still be teaching this year at the end of the year?"

"Yes, but –"

"Then what is the issue?"

"He's a werewolf! Just like _you_!"

"And that suddenly changes everything about him?" Emma asked. "You know, you did this to Harry our second year, and I can't believe you're doing this to me now. _Again_. You know, I don't know why you were ever bloody sorted into Hufflepuff because you're a terrible Hufflepuff."

"So are you, _werewolf_."

"Emma's not a werewolf," Finley interjected, her brows knit together as she glared at Ernie. "I've met both…both Greyback and Mr. Lupin. They're both completely different. And Emma's not a werewolf! She's half!"

"Doesn't change that they're all werewolves!" Ernie said, looking at Finley with annoyance that she dare say anything kind about Remus.

"Emma's not a werewolf, Ernie," Justin said, sounding exhausted. "How many bloody times do we have to go over this?"

"She was bitten by a werewolf – so she's a werewolf!" Ernie said, gesturing to Emma. "I mean, _look at her_. She looks just like Lupin! Hell, she looks just like Greyback, too."

"Clearly, you did _not_ pay attention when Snape decided we had to learn about werewolves early," Emma said, looking at Ernie as though he was stupid. "How are werewolves made?"

"You have to be bitten by one!"

"Yes, right, perfect. Excellent observation, but there's one key factor in that particular situation. Do you remember what that is?"

"Being bitten by a werewolf makes you a werewolf!"

"Yes, but _they have to be bloody transformed_!" Emma said pointedly. She huffed out an aggravated breath, pulled up the sleeve of her cardigan, and unbuttoned the sleeve of her blouse. She rolled her sleeve up to show the bite on her arm. "Fascinating how similar a werewolf's bite is compared to a human's, isn't it? Especially when that werewolf is Fenrir," Emma said sharply as everyone surrounding them turned to look at her and her exposed bite. Emma swallowed thickly and then loosened her tie so that she could unbutton the top few buttons of her blouse. She very slowly pulled aside her collar to show the bite there, not at all surprised by the gasps.

"He bit me twice, while human," Emma said, suddenly aware that more than just the Hufflepuffs were paying attention to her. She knew that she would have the same conversation multiple times, but hopefully, the Hogwarts rumor mill would work quickly. "I know the werewolf's identity wasn't published in the Prophet because he wasn't caught, but it was Fenrir. He had his reasons – he always does – but I'm not going to discuss them. It's absolutely no one's business other than mine. I want it to be very clear that I absolutely do not support Fenrir Greyback or his actions, but I did what I had to so that he wouldn't hurt me again. I'm not stupid enough to believe that if he wanted to, he could have killed me – staying on his good side was far more important.

"I'm not going to deny the fact that I'm not entirely human any longer, but that was something that happened at the end of second year. I've lived as a half-werewolf for an entire year, and none of you were even aware – don't you dare act as if that changes a thing about me. I have never transformed, and I will not transform unless I'm bitten by a _transformed_ werewolf at the full. However, I have to take the Wolfsbane Potion because of how ill I get – that was the 'super-secret' project I was working on last year while in Potions. You can make all the stupid comments you want about me, my looks, and what I am, but don't you fucking dare say a thing about my father. He's not here to defend himself, but I will be damned if I won't do it for him. I have no issue in teaching if you're willing to learn, but don't pretend as if any of you know my life or what I've had to go through. If any of you think that it's right that the Ministry is keeping me from my father, then don't even bother talking to me."

A hush fell over the nearby Hufflepuffs as Emma rolled her sleeve back down and buttoned the sleeve up. She took a quick look around at everyone, not focusing on anyone for very long. With a quiet sigh, she picked up her fork and knife and continued to eat. Very slowly, the others did the same, and conversation started to pick back up.

"Are you all right?" Finley asked Emma quietly.

"Yeah, I'm all right," Emma replied, giving Finley a small smile.

"Are you sure?" Cedric asked.

"It's okay if you're not," Justin added.

"Dad and I already talked about how difficult things would be," Emma said. "Well, in the short amount of time we actually got to spend together, obviously. I'll get over it at some point."

"Well, you've got me," Justin said, knocking his shoulder against Emma's.

"And me!" Finley chirped.

"And you're not getting rid of me," Cedric said.

"Thank you," Emma said softly. "Honestly."

Emma had desperately hoped that the rest of the feast would go without too much fanfare. She didn't mind talking quietly with the others, but she didn't miss the new looks she was getting. Having any association with Fenrir was a significant blemish on her reputation regardless of why she knew him. She was grateful that a few people understood, but would she be able to convince the others that she did what she had to? Emma wasn't entirely sure any longer.

With stomachs full and sleepy haze creeping through the Great Hall, Dumbledore stood to speak again. She snickered at Dumbledore's mention of Filch's requests. There was a general uproar that there wouldn't be any Quidditch that year, and Emma cast Cedric a disappointed look. Persephone had already told her that there wouldn't be Quidditch, but she had been hopeful.

"It's all right," Cedric said. "We can still play, I'm sure. Just not officially. We'll get a team together and see who else wants to play."

"Good," Emma grinned. "I've been practicing."

Dumbledore continued on, but just as he was about to explain what was happening in October, the doors of the Great Hall were thrown open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning on a staff and wearing a long, black traveling cloak. Every head immediately turned to look at the stranger in the room. A flash of lightning lit up the room, and the man dropped his hood, shaking out his long, dark grey hair. He slowly made his way towards the staff table, a _clunk_ heard with every other step.

Emma didn't think someone could look scarier looking than Fenrir.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Dumbledore asked brightly into the stunned silence. "Professor Moody."

 _This man_ was her father's replacement? Emma tilted her head slightly, not too sure about this strange-looking man. No one in the room clapped except for Dumbledore and Hagrid. Moody seemed entirely unbothered by his lack of applause.

Emma's thoughts about Moody were interrupted as Dumbledore explained what event would be taking place. The Tri-Wizard tournament seemed interesting until Dumbledore mentioned that the competition had a death toll. Even if Dumbledore said that it was open to everyone, Emma wasn't sure if she would participate. She was more interested to see what the other two wizarding school students would be like. Emma couldn't stop her groan when Fred voiced his aggravation over the age minimum needed to enter the competition. She could already see Fred and George plotting out how to enter the competition, and she shook her head.

"Oi, Ced, are you going to enter?" asked one of their housemates.

"Not sure yet," Cedric chuckled. "But the prize money would be nice, yeah?"

With Dumbledore's dismissal, Emma joined the crowd heading down to the dorms. She pushed Finley to follow Cedric down, and she wedged herself in between her dormmates at the back. The news of the Triwizard Tournament was exciting and seemed to be the topic of discussion. The closer they got to the dorms, the more the conversation shifted to the annual first-night sleepover. It was one of Emma's favorite traditions, and she wondered just what they were planning to do that year.

"Are we doing the big sleepover in the common room this year, or are we going to be in here?" Emma asked excitedly as they walked into the fourth year girl's dorm. It was _weird_ to be back in the dorms again, even though she had stopped in earlier.

"Er, about that," Megan said slowly. "We don't think it's a good idea if you join us."

Emma turned around to look at the other girls in surprise, stopping her walk over to her bed to grab her things. "What do you mean? It's tradition…"

"Well, with what you are," said Sally slowly. "We're not sure that it's safe."

"Safe? With what I am?" Emma questioned. She couldn't understand what the other girls were referring to. The only one who didn't seem to have a comment was Susan, but even she was quiet.

"Well, because you're a werewolf, you know," Hannah said softly.

"But I'm not," Emma said brokenly. "I said that at the feast."

"You were attacked by one," said Leanne. "You said it at the feast. It was all over the Prophet."

"Yes, but he wasn't transformed, either. He was human again, like I said," Emma said. "I get sick around the full, just like I did all last year, but I don't…I don't transform. I'm not dangerous."

Emma looked pleadingly at Susan to say something, but Susan kept her gaze elsewhere, not wanting to look at Emma. Not even 4 hours into being back at Hogwarts and the problems were already beginning. She looked between the other girls, crestfallen. The idea of them not wanting her to join the sleepover even after explaining things hurt.

"You know what, it's fine," Emma said, plastering on a smile. She slowly made her way over to her bed with a slight shrug. "Have fun…"

There was a long moment of everyone looking at each other before the other girls started to gather their things. They tried to keep their excitement subdued, but the more they gathered, the more excited they became. Emma stared for only a few moments longer before stepping into the small inset where her things were, and with one final look, she closed her curtains.

Emma's favorite part about the Hufflepuff dorms was that the room's layout changed the moment third year arrived. Having the four-post bed was nice the first two years as she still had privacy, but nothing compared to having her own section of the room. Even if the "rooms" were only curtained off and didn't have a door, a well-placed silencing charm and a closed curtain meant she would be left alone. She could still have her own little domain, and Emma felt that made the Hufflepuff dorms the best.

She set about arranging her things in a way that she'd like. She pulled her things out of her trunk slowly, her blankets being added to the bed and books being set aside for the moment. A small smile crossed her face as she found her favorite photos and put them on her nightstand.

The first, and by far Emma's favorite, was from her fourteenth birthday with her and Remus. She had missed it while in Saint Nicholas's and had been overly excited to be reunited with it; it was one of her favorite memories.

The second, Emma's other favorite, was one that had been taken with Sirius's assistance during one of the full moons they all spent together. Remus wasn't fond of it, didn't like having the physical proof of Moony's existence, but Emma loved it. All of her favorite people were with her, her pack, even if they weren't human in the photo. They were all curled up on the couch together, Emma's head resting on Moony's side, fingers twisted in his fur as they both slept. At her feet was Elara, curled up with her nose tucked into her tail, sleeping. Right next to her, half curled up but staring at the camera, tongue out and tail wagging, was Padfoot.

None of them had any idea how Sirius managed to get the camera set up and the timer put on without them knowing. Emma had quickly fallen in love with it when she took the time to have it developed. She had practically hunted Colin Creevey down just to learn how to develop the film herself the previous year, and her heart melted when the photo revealed itself. Emma begged and begged Remus to get her a frame for the picture, and it became a staple on her nightstand. It was risky having the photo, but it wasn't clear that Elara was a wolf with her face hidden, and Sirius looked very much like the happy family dog. With Remus being out as a werewolf, it didn't matter. With the set-up in the castle being similar to the cottage, no one would be able to believe that it wasn't taken at home.

Emma's third favorite photo was an older one that Remus had found from when she was a baby. Remus and Sirius were sitting next to each other at her grandfather's, and she was nestled in Remus's arms. Remus was playing with her fingers with Sirius's arm draped around Remus's shoulders. Sirius would lean closer to Remus to kiss his cheek, and they would look at each other with pure adoration.

Her fourth photo was one of the ones she had with Margaret. True to their personalities, they were both covered in paint, Emma's tiny fingers covered in multiple colors and paint splotches covering her face. Margaret would wave, hands equally as covered in paint, and she would pull Emma close to kiss her cheek. Her grandfather had found it in the short time she had spent with him, and Emma adored it. She just wished she had remembered to take it with her when she had to leave.

She stared at the photo for a moment before setting it down with an ache in her chest. It seemed so bizarre that Margaret was so bright, so vibrant, and it still hadn't sunk in that Jude had done something to her. It really didn't fit into her mind that there was a possibility that Persephone knew much more.

There were a lot of unknowns that Emma wasn't sure she would ever get answers to, mostly since she wasn't sure whether she wanted to know. Emma questioned whether it was worth being willfully ignorant of the situation or finding out more. She sighed as she continued to put her things where she wanted them; at least she had the year to figure things out.

Emma watched as Figaro slipped around the curtain and weaved between Emma's legs, her collar jingling as she purred happily. She sighed as she bent down to pick up Figaro, holding the kitten close and shaking her head.

"Fenrir _spoiled_ you," Emma said, running a finger over Figaro's collar. It had been a very unexpected gift from Fenrir, one that had taken Emma far longer to notice than it should have. She had realized very quickly that Fenrir had become smitten with Figaro after catching him talking very sweetly to her. Emma never expected him to buy the kitten a gift. Emma was more than happy with the collar Figaro had, but Fenrir decided it wasn't enough.

The pretty red collar Figaro had was replaced with one Emma almost swore was made of pure gold fabric. It was soft to touch with a beautiful silver nametag in the shape of a crescent moon. Emma was touched that a small sun and a star were added to the ring holding Figaro's name tag. With as much flack as Fenrir gave her over Remus saying that she was the sun and Sirius was the stars, he didn't dare take that away from her.

When Emma asked Fenrir about the collar, he acted as if he had no idea what she was talking about, and that was the end of that conversation. She would keep his secret, but Emma found it thoroughly amusing. Emma thought Figaro's collar made it too obvious who she belonged to, which worried her, but Fenrir promised nothing would happen to the kitten as long as her collar was on. Much like everything else when it came to Fenrir – Emma wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Emma let out a yelp when she heard her name being called. She had been so lost in thought that she had missed the door of the dorm being opened, and she popped her head out around the curtain.

"What do you want, Ced?" Emma asked, eying Cedric curiously. "Are you even allowed in here?"

"Prefect," Cedric said in explanation with a laugh. "You all right? You're not out with the rest of us."

"Oh, didn't you hear?" Emma asked sarcastically. She pushed the curtain to the side so she could lean against the wall. "I'm _dangerous_ and therefore not welcome to the sleepover."

"You're not dangerous, Emma," Cedric sighed. He began to pet Figaro, who was still sitting happily in Emma's arms. "Just come out. Who bloody cares what people have to say? You're not a werewolf, so why does it matter?"

"It matters," Emma said quietly. "I care. I'm just glad that it wasn't worse than it was."

"Where were you on the train, anyway? I didn't see you."

"Oh. I took one of the last compartments to be by myself…"

Cedric's face fell at the defeated tone in Emma's voice. "Em, you can't isolate yourself like that. Why didn't you sit with George? If not George, then why not me or Justin?"

"Too many people," Emma said. "I just needed to be alone."

"Well, will you please come out with us? The little first year – Finn, yeah? – she's been asking for you."

"No, it's all right," Emma said, shaking her head. "I have to get used to being back in the dorms anyway. If I start crying, I'd rather do it while I'm hidden, and no one can see me."

"Emma –"

"Cedric, it's fine," Emma said, cutting Cedric off. "Tomorrow's a new day, and I just want to get used to things. I'll be fine – go do your whole prefect duties thing and have fun."

"But you're not going to close off again, right? You'll talk to someone if you need to?"

"Yes, Ced," Emma said, setting Figaro down and giving Cedric a playful shove. "I'll talk to someone."

Cedric nodded and held his arms open for a hug. Emma rolled her eyes but gave Cedric a hug.

"I worry about you, Emma," Cedric said. "A lot of us do, even if they don't show it."

"Well, we'll see about that, won't we?"

It was almost eerie how silent the dorm room was with only Emma and Figaro. After going through her routine of getting ready for bed, Emma felt entirely at a loss. She looked at the notebook that sat on her nightstand but couldn't bring herself to pick it up just yet. Emma knew that Remus was waiting, had felt just how warm the notebook was, but she didn't want to move. She curled up on her bed, staring at the notebook and frowning at the quill sitting beside it. Things had changed severely since that first interaction with Fenrir last November, but last Christmas had been a turning point.

Emma's entire body stiffened at the sudden sound of scratching at the window above her bed. It was not the sort of sound to be hearing when getting ready to wind down for the night with darkening thoughts. When it didn't stop, Emma very slowly sat up, and her mouth fell open in surprise. Just outside of her window was a very wet black dog.

"Papa," Emma half hissed, half whispered. She grabbed her wand from her side table, adjusted the curtains to make sure they were closed, and made sure her silencing charm was set correctly. Emma launched herself onto her feet on the bed and opened the window with a wide smile. This more than made up for how her day had been.

"It's a bit of a drop," Emma said as Padfoot's head dipped under the lifted window. His wagging tail told her that he didn't care, and she stepped back to allow him to drop in. She quickly closed the window as Padfoot's muddy paws dropped onto her blanket, and she covered her face with a giggle as he shook himself off. Within seconds a dog was no longer on her bed, and a soaking wet Sirius sat there instead.

"Come here, pumpkin," Sirius said softly, holding his arms open for Emma. She gave him a funny look, and he looked at himself and gave her a sheepish grin. "Perhaps not…"

"Oh, you know I don't care," Emma said, dropping down next to Sirius to hug him tightly. "Why are you here? You're meant to be on the run."

"And miss my sweet daughter's first day of school? I think not," Sirius said, peppering Emma's face with kisses. "Daddy's not allowed to have all the fun."

"This is so dangerous with you here," Emma whispered, burying her face into the crook of Sirius's neck. She didn't care that he was soaked completely through and that her pajamas were getting equally as wet. "You're absolutely mental, Papa."

"I'll be all right," Sirius said, rubbing soft circles on Emma's back. "I can stay here for a few days, and then I'll head home. I've got Buckbeak hidden in the forest right now. Now…tell me how the rest of your summer home was. I haven't had a chance to write to Daddy to know what happened."

Emma pulled away from Sirius with a sad smile on her face. "I never got to go back home," she said, handing Sirius her wand so he could dry himself off. Emma was appreciative when he added a quick cleaning charm to rid her blankets of his muddy paw prints. Sirius's magic was so similar to Remus's that she knew her blankets would smell just like home. "A lot has happened…"

Much like Remus, holding Sirius's hand gave her the strength to explain everything that happened over the past few weeks. However, also like Remus, his hold on her hand tightened painfully by the end of her story. She had gotten Sirius caught up to what Remus knew, and she pulled her hand from his to reach over to grab her notebook.

"But there's more," she said. "I haven't told Daddy yet, either. He told me to wait until I was settled in." She bit her lip, drumming her fingers on the notebook for a moment. "The other things are important, but I think what I got confirmation of today was most important of all."

"What? What is it?" Sirius asked, looking worried that Emma could have anything more to say. His jaw was taut, eyebrows knitting together with his concern, and Emma began to giggle, almost nervously.

She set her notebook aside and stood up, making her way over to her trunk. Emma reached in to pull out the box that held the tapestry and the ring, nibbling on her lip.

"I received something today…from our cousin," Emma said quietly.

" _Our_ cousin?" Sirius questioned.

Emma nodded, bringing the box over and setting it down between them. "Back at the beginning of the summer…when you thought you were keeping me safe from Fenrir…none of us knew that he had a very specific plan," Emma said quietly. "You attacking him gave him a chance to get what he needed without having to ask for it."

"What do you mean? What did he do to you?"

"Not _to_ me – _for_ me," Emma corrected. "He made it so that I wouldn't ever have to worry about who my family is." She pulled the lid of the box and pushed it towards Sirius. "I'm sure that you don't want to look at it, but I think that you need to see it for yourself. I don't think you would believe me otherwise. Narcissa had Draco bring this to me."

Sirius was intrigued and lifted the small box first. He opened it and froze, his eyes darting up to Emma curiously. "Why do you have this?" he asked.

"You have to keep going," Emma said, waving Sirius on to keep going. "It won't make sense unless you keep going…"

"All right," Sirius sighed, setting the small box aside and pulling out the tapestry. He took in a sharp breath the moment he realized what it was. "Why did she –" Sirius's sentence ended as abruptly as it began, and he lowered it slowly to look at Emma, his mouth falling open with his surprise. " _How_? How are you mine?"

"Fenrir has a specific potioneer that he works with, I don't know who," Emma explained. "He knew how Daddy made me his, and when you went after him, he managed to get enough of your blood. Apparently, that was why Fenrir wanted to talk to me to tell me that he could do that much. That day Fenrir gave me back my memories, he also decided to give me one more gift…he made sure that I would always be yours and Daddy's no matter what. You being a dog Animagus was apparently one of the best possible things in the world for me because it guaranteed your blood could also be mine."

"So there's no trace of Jude in your blood? You're really…you're really ours?"

"I should be, yes. Of course, we haven't been able to test that theory, but –"

Emma didn't get a chance to finish her sentence as Sirius pulled her into possibly the tightest hug that he had ever given her. She melted into his embrace, relieved that he took it well and was happy that he seemed to be delighted. Emma knew that Sirius loved her, he made that as clear as possible, but sometimes she couldn't help but wonder. The way he held her in his arms was proof of it. He held her as if she was the last thing in the world that mattered to him.

"Papa, you're not allowed to cry," Emma said when she felt Sirius's body start to shake and the warmth of his tears on her shoulder. "This is good. Well, not everything else, but…"

"I have waited nearly fifteen years for this – longer really because I wanted this before you were even born," Sirius choked out, pulling back and taking Emma's face between his hands, his smile watery but genuine. "I always knew you were mine, but it was never the same. You were always my daughter, but this…"

"It makes it real," Emma said quietly.

"Now we've just got to get rid of that pesky Black name," Sirius said with a laugh. "You've only ever been Emma Lupin, and that's how you'll stay. You're _our_ daughter, and I don't think I've ever been happier in my life."

"Good," Emma said, slipping herself back into Sirius's arms. "So am I."

"Does Daddy know yet?"

Emma shook her head. "No, I haven't had a chance to tell him," she said with a soft laugh. "I'm sure he's very anxiously awaiting to hear what I didn't get to tell him this morning. I can tell you both at the same time."

"Emma Hope, there can't be more than what you've just told me."

"There's so much more."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES. My break is essentially at its end, so hopefully there will be more frequent updates. Trying to navigate the class schedules and the whatnot hasn't been fun, but I think I have it all figured out.
> 
> Anyway - It's super difficult trying not to rehash canon moments, and I'm so glad that this should be one of the only few times I have to. We've got the tournament and the Yule Ball, but Emma's not Harry so yay.
> 
> Ernie, Ernie, Ernie...didn't learn from second year, did he? Poor Emma's gone through a rollercoaster of emotions in the past two chapters, but also - surprise Papa Padfoot moment!
> 
> Also, if you want to come join the Gremlin pack, join the Discord! We have plenty of inside jokes, lots of fun, and everyone is amazing.
> 
> **come find me on:**   
>  [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/mymoonyandstars)   
>  [facebook](https://www.facebook.com/mymoonyandstars)   
>  [the moonlit stars discord](https://discord.gg/DtrKMhaTHR)
> 
> [spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/r6xi6203vwza01epk6askwk15?si=t4wwYBERRymTJvw09FJG3Q)  
> 


	35. A Moody Day

To say Sirius was less than pleased to find out why Emma was staying in the dorms was an understatement. Emma had seen Sirius's fits of anger towards injustice before, but to see him so aggravated on her behalf made her feel good. Why did she ever worry that Sirius didn't love her like he said? A niggling voice in the back of her mind said it was only because she was a Black by blood, but that was her mind being irrational. Sirius was the one who went to her mother, Sirius was the one who was Dad first, Sirius was a big part of the reason she was alive. Sirius loved her even if he had left her; he had promised her that he would come back, and he did.

In true typical, Lupin fashion, Remus didn't want to believe Emma's claim that she was a Black. Neither Sirius nor Remus wanted to believe that Fenrir had a son. Remus was cautiously optimistic on Emma's newly changed lineage and skeptical that a child of Fenrir's would even live for very long. Sirius just didn't want to imagine Fenrir having a child at all. However, Emma's track record of being right on most things won them both over in the end.

"This would be so much easier if you didn't have to write everything," Sirius muttered as he read Remus's response in the notebook over her shoulder. They had moved along to Emma discussing what she'd heard about Peter and Voldemort, and Remus's response was hurried and nervous. He wasn't sure what to think at all, and Sirius didn't want to entertain the possibility. The only advice they both had was to go to Dumbledore and tell him what she had learned.

Emma and Sirius settled in together like they were at home, Sirius leaning against Emma's headboard and Emma sitting between his legs, leaning back against his chest. Emma wasn't too worried about someone coming into the dorm, knowing that a party was going on in the common room. She would take advantage of every moment she could get with Sirius as a human and not a dog. While she loved Padfoot and appreciated the comfort, she preferred her father to be very much human.

"It's the safest option we have, though," Emma said quietly, rubbing her tired eyes. It was well past midnight, and she had been up for almost a full day with Fenrir's obnoxiously early wakeup. "At least with the notebook, it just looks like I'm writing things down, and I'm thinking really hard about what to write next."

Sirius pulled Emma's head back to rest against his chest and kissed the spot near her temple. "You look absolutely exhausted," Sirius said softly as Emma closed her eyes. "How long have you been up for, baby?"

Emma cracked open her eyes to look over at her clock. "Another five hours and I will have been up for an entire day," she said, settling back against Sirius with a sleepy hum. Emma squinted back at the notebook in her hand, blinking hard to try and clear her vision.

"Bloody hell," Sirius muttered, pulling the notebook and quill out of Emma's hands. He scrawled a quick message to Remus, waited a few moments, and then closed the book with a resolute thud and set it to the side. He smoothed back Emma's hair, smiling at her noise of protest at the notebook being too far away. "You have been up for far too long, sweetheart. Daddy said that he loves you and to go to sleep."

"No, he didn't," Emma said grumpily, trying to reach for the notebook just as Sirius pushed it further.

"He did," Sirius said, grabbing onto one of the several blankets Emma had and pulling it over the both of them. "Sleep. You're going to be exhausted for your first day of classes."

"You and Daddy told me that you lot would stay up all night your first night back," Emma muttered, taking Patches and Bee into her arms as Sirius handed them to her.

"We did," Sirius admitted, wrapping his arms around Emma's shoulders. "But we also didn't have to deal with the summer you had."

Emma turned her head to meet Sirius's gaze. "You did," she whispered.

Sirius only shook his head, resting his cheek against the top of Emma's head. "It was different," he said sadly. "Yours was far worse than I ever experienced at your age. But rest, sweetheart, you have such sleepy eyes."

"Aren't you going to turn into Padfoot?" Emma questioned.

"No, love, not right now," Sirius said, chuckling softly as Emma leaned back further to look at him with concern. "I'm a Marauder – we'll be all right. I'd just like to hold you for a bit if you don't mind."

"All right," Emma said quietly, closing her eyes once more as she got comfortable. "'Night, Papa."

"Good night, sweetheart," Sirius said, kissing the top of Emma's head. "I love you – always remember that."

"I know," Emma smiled. "I love you, too."

Emma was sure that both Remus and Sirius possessed an entirely different form of magic. She still hadn't figured out how they managed to get her settled into bed without waking her. When her alarm went off, Emma let out an aggravated groan, slapping the clock to turn it off. She turned her head to look at the black dog lying next to her. Padfoot lifted his head to look at Emma and yawned before pressing his nose to her cheek in greeting.

"Morning, Papa," Emma said, running a hand through his fur. "It's far too early."

Padfoot lifted himself up onto his four paws and stretched, shaking out his fur. In one fluid movement, he leaped over Emma and landed on two feet, turning to look at Emma, a man once more. It always fascinated Emma that Sirius could manage to shift back so flawlessly.

"It's your first full day of school," Sirius said with a grin. He reached out for Emma's hands and pulled her into a sitting position. "Come on, get up."

"It's too early," Emma yawned.

Sirius chuckled, sitting down next to Emma and letting her lean against him. "With a bit of coffee and some food, you'll perk right up," Sirius said, stroking Emma's hair. "You'll have all weekend to catch up on your sleep if you'd like."

"Hmm, maybe," Emma said. "Probably. No one likes me anymore, anyway."

"Hush," Sirius said softly. "Merlin, you are so like Daddy sometimes."

"Suppose that was bound to happen at some point spending an entire year with him."

"And it makes me love you just that much more," Sirius said, giving Emma a gentle shake to get her up. "Come on, love, time to get up."

Emma woke up slowly, trying to figure out just how her routine at Hogwarts would need to go. She stretched as she walked, pulling out everything she would need and frowning slightly as she tried to figure out the logistics of having Sirius present. He was only staying for a few days, but she worried it would be difficult to manage.

"Papa, are you hungry?" Emma suddenly asked, looking up from her half-packed bag.

"A bit, but I can wait until you come back for lunch," Sirius said, looking up from Emma's notebook.

"No, I'll get you something from the common room. I'm sure they've got plenty to eat from the kitchens – we've always had food here the first week or so. Anything in particular you'd want?"

There was a hint of uneasiness in Sirius's expression as if he wasn't quite ready to let Emma leave. When Emma's expression became mildly pointed, he gave her a soft smile in response.

"Anything you think I'd like," Sirius said.

And so off Emma went, traipsing into the still-waking common room as if she had been present the entire time. Wary and curious eyes followed her as she found the tables full of food, but luckily no one said a word. Emma had a sneaking suspicion she had been a topic of discussion and didn't entirely miss the way the fourth year girls followed her every movement.

It seemed ridiculous that even after the feast, they were still looking at her like _that_ , like she was an animal in a zoo. It was clear that they didn't entirely appreciate her presence, the curl of a lip here, the narrowing of eyes there. She didn't understand how after her very heated and vehement declarations, she was still considered just a creature. Emma had been nothing but honest, not caring to keep the information hidden any longer, hoping it meant things would change, but it didn't matter. As long as she was at Hogwarts, she was considered a threat. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

She practically rushed back into the dorm with an armful of food. It would look absolutely mental for her to be bringing so much food into the dorm and then eating at breakfast, but she would stash some in her bag. The moment Emma stepped back around the curtain to her pseudo-room, Sirius's forehead wrinkled with his concern.

"What?" Emma asked, frowning at Sirius's expression. She dropped all of the food she had in her hands on her bed and grabbed a breakfast pasty from the pile. With a sigh, she set down an overfilled goblet of pumpkin juice on her nightstand.

"Did someone say something to you?" he asked. He looked through the pile of food that was dropped on the bed and decided on a pasty as well.

"No," Emma said grumpily, sitting down on her bed. "Just stared. They look at me like I'm about to attack them."

"I think, with time, people will start to come around," Sirius said earnestly.

"And if they don't? Then what? I've got this entire year, and then I have to at least get through next year before I can even drop out."

"You are not dropping out," Sirius said lightly.

"And if Voldemort comes back –"

"He's not going to come back. You're going to tell Dumbledore what you heard, yes?"

"Yes, but when you say that, it makes it sound as though you believe there's a possibility he could come back."

Sirius's lips pressed into a thin line, and he gently lifted Figaro away from the pile of food on Emma's bed. "Go get yourself ready," Sirius said. "You need to eat more than just this."

"You're too much like Daddy sometimes," Emma huffed out, shoving the rest of the pasty in her mouth. "It's like he's here all over again," she said between her chewing.

"Good, that's what I was hoping for. Now go – you've got a long day to get through, and I don't think Daddy would be too happy if I didn't make sure you ate."

Putting on her uniform was somehow much more difficult the second time. She was happy to have a uniform that fit her correctly, but it brought her thoughts back to being in Diagon Alley and meeting Greyson. How did no one know that he existed and how had he kept himself a secret for so long? Even if he was shorter than Fenrir, Greyson still looked like his father, and his eyes were burned into her mind. She shook her head, wanting to clear her head from thoughts of Greyson. Emma let out a long breath that she felt she had been holding in all summer – she could finally breathe.

Emma stared at herself in the mirror to check her makeup for a long moment and ran her fingers over the scars on her face. They had faded considerably over the past month, but they were still pink and held a sharp contrast against her skin. She knew they would eventually fade further like the one Fenrir inflicted on her wrist, but she was impatient. Emma always wanted to cover the scars up, but any sort of cover-up made them look worse. At least the balm Elara gave her diminished their appearance much quicker. It seemed cruel that any other cut she had could heal within days, but werewolf inflicted wounds never went away.

"Well, how do I look?" Emma asked when she returned back to her bed. She looked down at herself, taking in her rolled-up sleeves. It was a bold move and showed the bite on her arm, but it wasn't like it mattered if she hid it or not.

"Beautiful as always," Sirius smiled. "Perhaps more radiant than when I saw you last."

"I certainly don't feel like it," Emma said, unable to stop the small smile that crossed her face. "And you don't have to tell me I'm beautiful. I know I'm really not if I had to hear Fenrir call me that at least once a day."

"Hmm, well, he's not the one who matters, is he?" Sirius said pointedly. "The only men who matter in your life are Daddy and me. Therefore, only our opinions matter – and you are absolutely beautiful, Pumpkin."

Emma snorted, picking up her bag. "Not even my future husband will matter?"

"You're not getting married until you're seventy," Sirius said, waving Emma off. "Although, I suppose he'll have to matter, too. But only if he's actually worth it."

"No one would want to marry me anyway, so it doesn't matter," Emma said, ignoring the look on Sirius's face. "You promise that you're going to stay here? You're not going to try running through the castle?"

"I solemnly swear that I will not move from this curtained room," Sirius said as seriously as he possibly could. "You know, I'm a bit jealous that you Hufflepuffs get all of this space. It's nice. I probably would have figured out how to just live here."

"Just one perk of living in the badger's sett," Emma said, taking a look around. She gave Sirius another look, one that was far more serious. "And you swear that if you hear anyone, you'll immediately turn into Padfoot and hide?"

"Sweetheart, I am a Marauder, and I have been on the run for over a year now," Sirius said gently. He tugged Emma into his arms and held her close. "You don't need to worry about me, I promise."

"And you promise you won't leave without telling me goodbye?" Emma asked, poking Sirius's sides playfully so he let her go. "You'll still be here when I come back?"

"Oh, I'm sure I can find ways to entertain myself for a while," Sirius said, lifting Emma's notebook.

"If I come back and you've written weird things to Daddy, we are going to have a very long conversation, Papa," Emma said, narrowing her eyes.

"Where's the fun in being a father if I can't scar my daughter for life by informing my future husband of all the naughty things I want to do to him?"

"Papa, _please_ do not," Emma groaned, kissing Sirius's cheek. "I expect that notebook to still be filled with innocent, child-friendly things, thank you."

"I'll make sure I write about how excited I am to snog him when I get home, then."

"Ew," Emma laughed. "I'll be back around lunch, and we can eat together. I'll grab something from the kitchen again."

"You don't have to eat with me," Sirius said. "I have plenty here to last until dinner. It's the first day, eat with your friends."

"I'm not too sure I have too many of those…"

"Emma Hope –"

"I will find _someone_ to talk to," Emma said in exasperation. "Don't you dare tell Daddy how I'm being."

"Too late," Sirius said. "I love you, sweetheart. Have a good first day."

"Love you, too," Emma said quietly, hauling her bag over her shoulder. "Don't let Fig get into any trouble."

Emma could thank Merlin for small miracles as she found Justin waiting for her just outside the girl's dorm. She cast him a grateful look and shook her head. "You could have gone up," Emma said as Justin pulled her into a hug.

"Everyone's moving slow this morning," Justin said. "Besides, I'm not leaving you alone this year."

Emma had no reason not to doubt Justin's claim.

Justin Finch-Fletchley had somehow become Emma's first friend in Hufflepuff back in their first year. Their friendship started out slowly, unsure of just how similar they were, but the more they talked, the more they had in common. Justin being Muggle-born gave Emma a near-instant connection with him. She had practically grown up as a Muggle-born child, and magic was just as new to her as it was to him. Remus used magic infrequently at home except when necessary, or at least Emma had thought so. It wasn't until Emma's short time at home that she realized that most magic Remus used was wandless or non-verbal. Regardless, everything felt new and exciting at the time, whereas their classmates were surrounded by magic growing up.

While the half-bloods and pure-bloods balked at Emma being "adopted," Justin never seemed to care about that fact about her. Even better, they were both only children and had that to relate to. They often reflected on how much better it was to have their parents' attention to themselves and not have to share.

Even though Justin came from a more affluent family, he didn't flaunt what he owned. He never made Emma feel bad when some of her books were second-hand or when something didn't seem entirely new. Justin was never anything less than kind and intelligent, even if he could sometimes be easily impressed and gullible.

They spoke at length over all things Muggle culture – the newest celebrity gossip, new music that they heard on the wireless, and movies they wanted to watch. They often traded recommendations for books to read and giggled over the strange things in wizarding written books. They would walk the halls and talk to the portraits together sometimes, marveling at the magic behind how they worked. Even though they didn't entirely understand the process, they appreciated how different the magical world could be.

The true test of their relationship was during the bad moments Emma had in their first year. It was no secret that Emma frequently had terrible nightmares, and on her worst nights, she could creep into the boy's dorm. She would creep over to Justin's bed to wake him up, and he would spend the night with her in the common room. He would listen to whatever was on her mind, and they would attempt to play chess for a while. Often times they would wake up snuggled against each other with a blanket over the top of them. They still weren't sure who would cover them up and why they didn't make them get up and return to their rooms.

Justin had apparently let loose on the other Hufflepuffs after discovering everything that had happened while he was petrified their second year. He was disgusted by everyone's behavior, and he felt terrible that he had contributed in any way and had apologized for it profusely. Justin never claimed to be brave and had been terrified when the message on the wall appeared regarding the Chamber of Secrets.

All through their third year, Justin was the first one willing to join Emma on her stupid ideas. He was the one who worried just as much as Cedric when her emotions completely spiraled out. While Justin spent plenty of time with Ernie and Hannah, he spent just as much time with Emma. When she wasn't talking to Remus throughout almost the entirety of October, he was there for her the most next to Persephone. Even though Emma never said a word about what had happened that Halloween, Justin seemed to know right away. He never questioned it, never brought it up, but it seemed convenient that he suddenly teamed up with Cedric. Neither of them had left her alone since.

"Okay, Mum," Emma teased. "Shall we head up?"

"Ah, I missed your sarcastic little comments," Justin said wistfully. "Let's head up."

The other thing that Emma adored about Justin was his ability to know when Emma didn't want to talk about things. He immediately launched into a conversation about the last movie he saw before the summer ended. Emma was eternally grateful that Justin could have conversations with her where she didn't have to think too hard.

By the time they made it to the Great Hall and sat down, Emma was in much better spirits. Only a quarter of the Hufflepuffs had made it up from the common room, and the table was still mostly empty. The moment Emma sat down, Finley's bright eyes found her, and she ran over to her, leaping onto the bench next to Emma and nearly knocking her into Justin.

"Good morning, Emma!" Finley shouted, throwing her arms around Emma in pure delight. "I can't believe it's my first day!"

Emma was in much better spirits when she sat down for breakfast. Finley practically ran over to her and sat down excitedly.

"I know," Emma responded with a grin. "Are you excited?"

"Very!"

"Morning, Em," Cedric said from across the table.

"Careful there, Ced. You're talking to my favorite girl," Justin said, propping his head on his hand and batting his eyelashes at Emma. He gave Cedric a mischievous smile. "I will fight you for her."

"Oh, shut it, Finch-Fletchley," Emma said, grabbing a spoonful of egg and flicking its contents at Justin. "Don't be stupid when I've already had a bit of a morning."

"It's the first full day of term. How are you having 'a bit of a morning,' Lupin?"

"I'll tell you sometime this weekend," Emma said gravely. "Bit complicated to try and wade through right now."

"Ah, Miss Lupin, good morning," Professor Sprout said, flipping through the papers held in her hand to find Emma's schedule. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm as well as I'm going to get," Emma said quietly, looking through her schedule when she had it in her hand. She frowned slightly when she noticed the two-hour block of empty space where Divination would probably go. Caspian, who just sat down, was staring at her intently, wondering what she was about to do. Emma let out a breath, shooting him a look before plastering on a smile as she turned to Sprout as she searched for Justin's schedule. "Professor Sprout, if it's not too much, would it be possible to add Divination back into my schedule?"

"Really?" Professor Sprout asked in surprise. "Remus was quite adamant about having you removed from the class. Are you sure that you want to continue with Divination?"

Emma glanced up at Caspian, whose eyes grew comically wide in surprise that Emma had actually asked to continue the class, and she nodded.

"Er, yes," she said. "Thought it might be worth keeping a full schedule."

"Well…well, all right, dear. If you're sure," Professor Sprout said slowly, pulling out her wand to tap it to Emma's schedule. "Come see me at lunch so that we can discuss your arrangements for your time with Dr. Wheeler."

"Of course," Emma said, looking down at her schedule. At least Divination would only be once a week. "Thank you, Professor Sprout."

"Wow," Caspian said slowly when Professor Sprout was far enough away. "I didn't think you were actually going to add Divination back just because Fenrir said to."

"Caspian, shut up," Emma said sharply.

"Should bloody write to him and tell him that he managed to _actually_ convince you to add the class back. I'm sure he'll be absolutely delighted."

"Cas, _shut up_ ," Emma hissed. "It's not like it's a big deal for me to just take it."

"I'm just saying," Caspian said through a mouthful of his cereal. "Persephone said you were complaining about the class all last year. The fact that you actually added it back to your schedule is bizarre."

"If I want to stop taking it again, I can," Emma said heatedly.

"Why do we have to History of Magic first?" Justin asked with a groan. "At least it's not with the Ravenclaws this year."

"The Gryffindors can have a right good time in History, then," Emma muttered. She wasn't at all looking forward to her first day would go. History of Magic first, followed by Potions, and then Defense Against the Dark Arts. She wasn't looking forward to Defense at all, but at least it was just before lunch. Double Charms and Transfiguration didn't seem like a terrible way to end her day. Still, it meant her most challenging homework would be delegated to the weekend, and she wasn't thrilled about that.

"Did you see? We've got Moody today," Hannah said, sitting down with Susan on the other side of the table.

"Curious to see what he's going to be like," Ernie said, his tone mildly clipped when he noticed Emma. He gave her an annoyed once-over before deciding he would just ignore her. "He was an Auror, you know."

Emma did, in fact, know that Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody was a retired Auror and possibly one of the most famous Aurors of all time. Sirius spoke in short, almost nervous sentences about Moody as he was part of the Aurors present at his arrest. However, there was an incredible amount of respect in his words. Sirius's worry over Moody being in the castle was the only reason why Emma didn't fear him leaving the dorm. Remus was amazed that Dumbledore had managed to get Moody out of retirement but had only good things to say. He tried to assure Emma that she would have a good professor, but she wasn't entirely convinced.

A sudden, errant hoot soared over the Great Hall, and Cedric looked up as a lone owl flew in and dropped something at the Gryffindor table.

"Morning mail's here," he said just as a swarm of owls flew into the Great Hall.

The first full day of term always seemed to be the busiest day for mail. Excited children wrote to their parents the night before and would receive their responses the next morning. The ceiling was a flurry of feathers of all different colors, squawks and shrill hoots, and excited talking. Emma wasn't expecting to receive a letter at all when she could talk to Remus in her notebook. However, Aurora flew in and dropped a letter in front of Emma, not bothering to say hello. Emma wanted to be annoyed that her owl didn't stop for a moment to be greeted, but her annoyance was overshadowed by Remus's familiar writing on the front of the envelope. She felt her father was ridiculous sometimes, but she more than appreciated the gesture.

However, that wasn't the only letter Emma received. She let out an exasperated sigh when she noticed Fenrir's now equally familiar writing on another envelope, but more and more kept coming.

Owl after owl started to land in front of Emma, and she paled considerably at the number of owls beginning to line the table. Most dropped envelopes in front of her, but a few stayed, pushing themselves in front of another owl, nipping at wings and beaks. Pitchers of pumpkin juice were knocked over, and plates of food tipped over and upended. Emma was almost frantic with how quickly she tried to grab the envelopes, not wanting to have the owls make an even bigger mess.

"Em, what are all of those?" Caspian asked, his brow furrowed. He stared at the owls for a long moment before deciding to help take letters as more owls landed. Justin, Cedric, and Finley quickly joined in to help take the letters.

"I dunno," Emma said, her stomach sinking. "I wasn't even expecting to get a letter from Dad. I don't know what these are."

"This is mental," Cedric said.

Justin moved over to allow someone to sit in between him and Emma. George plunked down next to Emma to join in the gathering of letters. "Why do you have so many bloody letters?" George asked, looking at Emma curiously.

"She doesn't know," Cedric said in explanation, waving off an owl that was trying to get at the toast.

"I really don't know at all," Emma said with a frown. She tucked her letters from Remus and Fenrir into her bag – she could read those later. Swallowing hard, Emma grabbed the first letter in front of her, unsure of what its contents would hold. She let out a sharp gasp when she pulled out the parchment.

The letters on the page weren't handwritten but cut letters from a magazine or the Daily Prophet and pasted down. Emma's throat constricted almost painfully as she looked over the pile of letters. She knew they were all going to be the same.

> _HOGWARTS ISN'T A PLACE FOR FILTHY HALFBREEDS LIKE YOU. GO BACK TO YOUR OWN KIND._

"Whoa," George breathed out, reading over Emma's shoulder. He paused for a moment and grabbed another letter from the pile, frowning at its contents. Emma reached out to take it, but George pulled it back. "You don't want to read this one."

"Why?" Emma asked. She watched as Caspian reached over from the other side, opening it and turning white. He passed the letter to Cedric and opened another letter, his reaction no better than the first. "What is it?"

"Em, you have to tell someone about these," Justin said as he opened another letter. "Er, they're…gruesome."

"What?" Emma asked anxiously, reaching over and ripping the letter out of Justin's hands. She gasped when she was met with a picture cut out from the Daily Prophet of a photo of her and Remus, but their heads were cut off with red X's scratched in their eyes.

Remus had told her that this had happened to him shortly after the first Daily Prophet articles had come out. She had thought people had forgotten about her as she hadn't received any letters, but Remus said he had a redirect set up. Apparently, Lyall had done the same thing, and Emma didn't receive any owls while at Saint Nicholas's. This was the part of Remus's outing as a werewolf that she hadn't witnessed. Emma thought that even if someone remembered her, she would have relative anonymity at the school. She was sorely mistaken.

Emma shoved the letter in her hands back at Justin and opened another. Her shock gave way to mild amusement as what looked to be powdered silver fell out of the envelope. She forced herself to huff out a laugh as she would cry otherwise if she didn't.

"Do people really think silver hurts werewolves?" Emma asked the others, her eyes darting over to the other fourth year Hufflepuffs who wore mixed reactions. Justin had shown Ernie the one letter and at least looked as though he _might_ feel bad. The girls hadn't seen the contents of the letters, but everyone except for Hannah, who had close ties with Ernie, looked worried.

> _I HOPE THAT THIS SILVER KILLS YOU. HOW DARE YOU STEAL YOUR MAGIC._

"Oh, look. I must have found Jocelyn's parents," Emma said, turning the letter out to show Caspian. "How sweet. Too bad silver doesn't hurt a werewolf, and too bad I'm not actually a werewolf at all. Idiots."

"Emma," Justin said softly, his eyes full of concern. He had noticed the way Emma's breath had caught when she opened another letter.

"This is what happened to Dad," Emma said quietly, blinking back her tears. She leaned into George as he put his arm around her. "I just…I didn't think it would happen to me, too."

She couldn't cry. She had done too much of it already, and she needed to be strong. This was her reality now, and she had to accept it. The wizarding community had painted her as someone she wasn't, and she had to be strong. No wonder Fenrir told her to stop caring what people thought about her. These weren't going to be the only letters she received.

"You've never received letters like this before?" Cedric asked.

"No," Emma said, pushing the letters aside. "Never."

"I'm going to go tell Professor Sprout," Cedric said, gathering the already opened letters and standing up. He pointed at the pile of unopened letters. "Don't you dare open any more of those. We don't know what's in them. What if that letter had something more dangerous than silver?"

The morning didn't get any better. Emma was left incredibly embarrassed when Professor Sprout was joined with Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick hurried over with Cedric. McGonagall apologized for the terrible oversight on her part and said that she would be sure to set up a redirect for Emma's mail. If she received any more letters from people she didn't know, she was to give it to a professor immediately, and Emma was to write out a list of approved correspondences. It was something else for Emma to add to her list of things for the day, and she was already ready for the day to be over.

History of Magic wasn't terrible as she thought it would be. However, there was a moment that left Emma concerned – her school record hadn't entirely been updated.

As Professor Binns went through the class register, Emma felt herself grow sick at the mention of a "Black, Emma" immediately after, "Abbott, Hannah."

The Hufflepuffs had laughed it off easy, believing it to be Binns' lack of awareness, but the Slytherins all looked at Emma. Persephone, who had decided to sit with Daphne, turned around to look at Emma with a horrified expression. Draco's eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion as he turned to look at her. Emma desperately hoped that her horror wasn't worn on her face, though she felt her entire body grow hot and cold at the same time. Draco wasn't the only one who gave her that look.

Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Daphne Greengrass, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Samantha Runcorn, Mauricius Webb, and Blaise Zabini, the pure-bloods of Slytherin were now very curious. Black was an oddly specific surname for Emma to suddenly be given by Binns, and they all knew it. Ernie, Sally, and Leanne, who had initially laughed with the rest of the Hufflepuffs, noticed how the Slytherins looked at Emma. Their gazes were now just as suspicious. Emma was in trouble.

Potions wasn't any better. Emma had already been aggravated to have to go to Potions in the first place and was in a very sour mood. The very moment Snape started to take attendance, he stopped, his dark eyes shooting up to meet Emma's. His expression was blank for one long moment, and then his lip started to curl, and Emma just raised her eyebrows in a silent challenge. She had no issue in calling Snape out again, and he knew it. Snape's expression shifted to one of disgust, and he scanned the rest of the room to see who was present. He picked up a quill and immediately began to scratch something out on his registry and write something new in. Emma could feel Ernie's gaze on her the entire time.

If Emma thought Snape was vindictive before, he had somehow grown much worse since the previous year. Each time he passed by her, he had a new snide comment about her fathers, both subtle and not-so-subtle. Each little comment about Remus and Sirius bothered her, but she expected it and ignored them. However, she didn't realize just how low Snape would go – she should have known better.

She nearly upended her cauldron in anger when Snape dared to mention Fenrir, drawing the attention of even the Ravenclaws. Emma was already a tightly wound-up ball of sheer frustration at having to deal with Snape after what he'd done, but his mention of Fenrir annoyed her. Apparently, Fenrir's comments had been very choice when Snape came to drop the Wolfsbane Potion off for her.

"I wasn't the one who asked him to say whatever he did," Emma snarled at Snape. "I didn't ask for my summer to go the way it did. Need I remind you that _you're_ the reason that I look how I do? Need I remind you that you're the reason my father was almost killed? All of this could have been avoided if it weren't for you." Emma didn't have to explain to Snape that she was referring to both of them. If Remus didn't have such a clean record, he would have been executed, and Sirius nearly received the Dementor's Kiss. As long as Emma lived, Snape would never have her respect again.

Snape and Emma glared at each other, Emma silently challenging Snape to try and deny his involvement in how her summer was. He looked as though he was about to say something, but Emma wasn't about to give him the opportunity.

"You know very well who I have on my side now," Emma growled out. She wasn't expecting to use Fenrir as a weapon of sorts, but he was the best she had. "I think you should think carefully about what you say next."

"And he deserves to be put down like the rest of them," Snape sneered. "15 points from Hufflepuff. If you dare speak out of turn again, expect detention for the rest of the month."

"Shit, Emma," Mandy Brocklehurst said quietly when Snape was far enough away. "Do I even want to know what that was about?"

"No," Emma said roughly. "You don't."

Emma's head was pounding with a massive headache by the time Potions was over, and she still had Defense to get through. Justin wanted to walk with her, worried about how she was, but she sent him off on his way. She was ready to climb back into bed and _stay_ there and wished that she didn't leave her notebook with Sirius. Emma wanted nothing more than to talk to Remus just to have him soothe her nerves. She suddenly remembered her letter from Remus that she still hadn't read and dug into her bag to find it. Perhaps that would help.

Remus had such a way with words that Emma nearly broke down into tears by the time she made it to the Defense classroom. It was a very poor choice to read Remus's letter before heading into a room she had called home. His letter held such fond words of their time together, his hopes for the next year for her, and his plentiful reminders that he loved her. While she kept every letter that Remus ever wrote her, this particular letter would be joining the pile that she carried with her everywhere. She was still frustrated from Potions, but she could get through this class, and then she could sit with Sirius for lunch. It would be fine.

Around half the class had made it to Defense already, and Emma inwardly cringed as the Slytherins looked up at her. To Emma's surprise, Persephone skipped up to her, her hair bouncing with every step. An almost sad smile crossed Persephone's face as she looked at Emma and her hands came up to wipe away the stray tears that had fallen from Emma's eyes.

"Sit together?" Persephone asked. "For old time's sake?"

"Really?" Emma huffed out with a laugh. "After telling me to stay away from you?"

"Well, it's tradition, no?" Persephone said pointedly. "We have to have at least one class where we sit together. Why not this one?"

Emma looked over at Justin, who was in a spirited discussion with Ernie, who looked up at her with a scathing look. "Yeah, might as well," Emma agreed. "Where do we sit?"

"Somewhere in the middle. Not like last year," Persephone said, pulling Emma to the far-left side of the room so they could be near the windows. "I think right here should be fine."

The Defense classroom was transformed once more, and Emma took a curious look around. Gone were the multiple skeletons and strange objects Remus had collected, but in their place were other items Emma had never seen. It seemed like an entirely different room, less airy and bright as Remus kept it, but dark and almost brooding. The room felt oddly dangerous and less welcoming, and it left Emma feeling uneasy. She hoped that Remus and Sirius had been honest in their words of praise of Moody. All Emma knew was it was _not_ going to be a typical year.

The class grew quiet as they heard the thunking noises of Moody walking down the hallway, and they quickly settled. Emma, who had taken an aisle seat, was grateful that Justin sat to her right. He reached across the aisle to take Emma's hand in a reassuring gesture. This class, in particular, would possibly be more difficult than Potions for her to get through.

"Put your books away," Moody said roughly as he made his way to his desk and sat down heavily. "You're not going to need them."

Moody pulled out his register and began to call out names. Emma nearly let out an audible sigh of relief when her name was right between Megan Jones and Draco Malfoy where she belonged. However, Emma didn't miss the way Moody's magical eye seemed to linger on her just a moment longer than the others.

"Perfect," he said after he marked down Blaise as present. "Now, I received a letter from Professor Lupin this morning –" Emma had to ignore the sharp ache she felt at the mention of her father "– and he gave me a rundown of everything you learned. He's made sure that you've been put through the paces with all sorts of dark creatures – boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, Kappas, and werewolves, yes?"

The very moment Moody mentioned werewolves, everyone turned to look at Emma. She sunk down in her chair, her face heating up in embarrassment. This wasn't going off to a good start at all.

"Yes?" Moody prompted, causing only half the class to turn back and pay attention. He let out an aggravated noise, his attention turning back to Emma. "Lupin!" he said sharply.

"Y-yes, Professor?" Emma stammered out, her eyes wide.

"You a werewolf?"

"Er, no sir," Emma said, squirming in her seat. She began to run through every possible spell she could think of to have the floor split open.

"Ever turn into a wolf? Have moments where you forget what happened during the full moon?"

"Uhm…no, sir. Never."

"Good. Case closed. In case you're all wondering, she was attacked by a werewolf, but that doesn't make her one. Lupin's not a werewolf – moving on," Moody said with a tone that suggested he wouldn't revisit the topic. "Now, Professor Lupin covered dark creatures, _yes_?"

This time the class's response was more absolute as they slowly looked away from Emma and paid attention to Moody. Emma looked over at Persephone in confusion. What had just happened?

"Right then. He did an excellent job preparing you for dark creatures; suppose he was the best man for the job after all. But you're behind – very behind – on dealing with curses," Moody said gruffly. "I've got one year to get you up to scratch on where you need to be. You need to be prepared for what other wizards can do to each other." Moody seemed oddly excited by the idea, clapping his hands as he stood heavily back on his feet. "Now, according to the Ministry, I'm supposed to teach you counter curses and leave it at that. I'm not meant to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in sixth year…"

Emma practically tuned Moody out at the mention of _showing_ what Dark curses looked like. She remembered the weeks Remus spent teaching about the unforgivable curses and his gentle warnings to avoid the classroom during those times. It wasn't often that she needed to leave class to go be with him, but he took care to make sure she knew what he was doing. Remus knew just how uncomfortable the topic was for her but was gentle in his approach with teaching her of the other spells. Moody appeared to be taking a much different approach.

"Lupin," Moody said sharply.

Emma's eyes snapped up to Moody. Once again, everyone was looking at her.

"Yes, sir?" she asked, brow furrowing.

"What's one of the curses that are heavily punished by wizarding law? I know that you're very familiar with one of them from your files."

Emma's stomach sank, and she looked away from Moody. The eyes of her classmates were practically burning holes into her skull. Looked like a lot of her secrets were going to be put out into the world, and Persephone's gaze shifted between Moody and Emma almost frantically.

"The…erm…the Cruciatus," Emma said quietly. "The torture curse."

"And you've had the curse used on you before?"

The entire classroom seemed to grow impossibly quieter. Even Justin didn't know that part of her life, and he looked almost pained as he looked at her.

Emma swallowed hard around the lump in her throat and took a steadying breath. "Yes, sir," Emma said quietly.

There were sharp gasps and sudden murmurings at Emma's declaration.

"Up," Moody said. "Get up, Lupin. Come here."

Reluctantly Emma stood up from her seat and joined Moody at the front of the room. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a glass jar with three large spiders. He reached into the jar and pulled the spider out, dropping it on his desk.

" _Engorgio_ ," Moody muttered, pointing his wand at the spider. It scuttled across the desk, swelling up to the size of a large tarantula. His normal eye and his magic eye studied her closely before he motioned to the spider.

"Take your wand out," Moody said, his magic eye swiveling to watch Emma as his regular eye remained focused on the spider. Emma slowly took out her wand, unsure of why Moody wanted her to take her wand out. "You know the spell?" Emma gave a slight nod, and Moody suddenly motioned towards the spider. "Go on, cast it, then."

"What?" Emma asked. Her heart was hammering hard in her chest with disbelief

"Cast the Cruciatus on her."

"No," Emma said sharply, putting her wand away and looking at the spider in alarm. It was only a spider, but that didn't matter. It felt like when Fenrir tried to goad her into casting the spell on him, and Emma wasn't sure she liked Moody at all. "Absolutely not."

Moody reached out and seized her wrist and pulled it up to shoulder height. Emma worried that he would put his wand in her hand instead, but he took things in a different direction.

"I want you all to see the lasting damage of the Cruciatus," Moody said, releasing his hold on Emma's wrist once he pulled her hand forward. Emma went to lower her hand, but Moody shot her a look, and she kept it where it was.

Emma felt too on display and too exposed; for the longest time, the spell damage from the Cruciatus was her well-guarded secret. While she understood that Moody wanted the others to understand the damage caused, she was embarrassed. Her classmates' eyes watched as her mildly steady hand began to shake, the motion exacerbated by her nerves. She already had enough wrong with her for people to point out; this would just be something else.

Without the opportunity to brace herself, Moody let go of her wrist and turned his wand onto the spider. " _Crucio_ ," he muttered.

Emma's breath caught in her throat, and she flinched instinctively at the incantation. Still, her fear didn't diminish even when she realized the spell wasn't cast on her. Hot tears filled her eyes as she watched in horror as the spider curled in on itself, legs folding in tightly. If the spider could make any noise, she knew the sound it would make; it was the sharp, shrill sound she had made.

"Professor," Persephone shouted, her tone frantic when Moody didn't release the curse on the spider.

Moody looked up at Persephone with his magical eye and finally lifted his wand, releasing the curse. He looked over at Emma with a gruff hum. " _Reducio_ ," Moody said, shrinking the spider to her proper size. He scooped the spider up and placed her back in the jar, placing a hand on Emma's arm to send her back to her desk. His magical eye searched Emma's face as she sat back down, wiping off her face from the tears that had fallen.

"The Cruciatus curse was a popular once," Moody said. "There's no need for physical means of torturing someone when you can perform the Cruciatus Curse."

Emma could barely pay attention to the rest of the class. When the class jumped at Moody's outbursts of "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" she could scarcely find it in herself to react. All she could do was think about the tortured spider, the one that had been put through the Imperius curse, and the one that suffered its quick death. She sighed heavily when the class finally ended and looked at her notes. Her writing was so shaky that she was going to have to rewrite her notes at some point that weekend. Perhaps Remus would be willing to walk her back through the lesson since she barely paid attention.

"Lupin!" Moody called as the class packed up. "A word before you leave."

The last thing Emma wanted to do was stay in the room any longer with Moody. She still had to see Sprout, and she desperately wanted to be with Sirius.

"Hey," Persephone said softly, glancing over at Justin, who looked concerned. "Do you want us to wait for you?"

"No," Emma said shakily. "I, uhm…I planned to just grab something from the kitchens anyway. I have to see Sprout – therapy tonight, you know."

"You sure?" Justin asked.

"Yeah, it's all right. You both go eat," Emma said, smoothing out her robes and lifting the strap of her bag over her shoulder. "I'll see you both later."

Emma slowly made her way to the front of the room and stood in front of Moody's desk, trying to ignore the way her body still shook. She felt cold, numb even, from Moody's lesson. How was she meant to get through the rest of the year?

"Lupin," Moody said gruffly when the rest of the class left. "Though suppose it's Black according to your records, eh?"

Emma huffed out a laugh, the sound slightly bitter. "Depends on who you talk to," Emma said quietly. "Ministry says Nickels, here says Black, apparently. I just say Lupin."

"You don't want to be a Black?"

"Only in blood, sir," Emma said quietly. "I want to be a Lupin by name. That's who I've always been, after all."

Moody nodded. "Respectable choice," he said. "Lupin's a good man. Intelligent, clever – both your father and grandfather, I mean. I wanted to apologize for using you as an example today. Some of your classmates won't come face to face with the Cruciatus Curse, but most of them will, and it'll sink in more to see the lasting effects."

"It's all right," Emma said with a half-hearted shrug. "I understand."

"There was recent spell damage, though, wasn't there?"

"Sir?"

"I know what it looks like when the curse has settled down in a person's nerves. Your tremors indicate that there was recent trauma."

"I don't –"

"There's no point in lying to me, Lupin. Who was it?"

Both of Moody's eyes met Emma's inquisitive gaze. He gave Emma a smile, and while it was probably meant to be encouraging, it seemed anything but.

"Guess that answer also depends on who you talk to," Emma said bitterly. "But it's not like it matters. Nothing will be done about it."

"How do you know?"

"Nothing was ever done the first time," Emma shrugged. She hesitated for a moment, worrying her lip between her teeth before finally saying quietly, "Jude's untouchable."

"Is he?" Moody asked. "I'm not too sure about that."

"Sir?"

"Was it ever reported?"

"Er, no," Emma said quietly. "I didn't…he's already done enough to me this summer. All I care about is being able to go back home where I belong. The Ministry already isn't too thrilled with my entire existence as it is."

"But you're not a werewolf."

"No, sir."

"Well, if you were to have an…unexpected illness or injury and had to visit the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey would be obligated to report the spell damage. She would be able to pinpoint around the general time it appeared. If you just so happened to be nowhere near home, then it would be easy to narrow down the offender."

"Are you…are you telling me that I should be, er…going to Madam Pomfrey, sir?" Emma questioned, not sure if she heard Moody correctly. He only gave a slight shrug, clunking heavily around the desk. "Will it – will it work?" Emma added slowly.

"It'll create a paper trail. An older report already exists, and as it's now illegal…"

"But _will he go to Azkaban_?"

"Anything is possible. At the very least, it'll force an investigation," Moody said. "It'll make it impossible for him to find work. No one will want to hire someone who can cast the Cruciatus on children. And perhaps, with Lupin's clean record, there's a chance the right people would see the truth."

Emma nearly shivered in delight at the idea of Jude actually getting in trouble. Could that at all be possible? With Ellis in the Ministry, Emma always wondered just how many connections Jude had. Was he as untouchable as she thought? Did she even need Fenrir to help rid her life of Jude? _Could she get Jude sent to Azkaban?_

She tried not to allow herself to get too excited by the idea. There were still too many things that could go wrong, but Moody had a point. A paper trail would be worth having, and she wasn't able to get checked out after Jude cast the Cruciatus. Fenrir had forced her to run through different exercises when she was smaller just to try and ease the effects, but it wasn't enough. Even Fenrir had admitted that she should get checked, but he wasn't entirely willing to let her out of his sight. Fenrir wasn't too happy with that, but at the end of the day, there wasn't much that could be done to fix the spell damage except time. But that paper trail could change everything…

Suddenly Emma's prospects didn't seem so bleak.

"Best be on your way, Lupin," Moody said gruffly. "Wouldn't do well to have you miss lunch on your first day."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh ho ho ho. A lot happening on the first day of term, eh? This also 100% does not follow book canon because for some reason the school year always starts on a Monday in the books, but the first day would be a Friday. Made reworking the entire timeline really aggravating, but oh, well! Did you all think that Emma was going to be free of things once she got to the castle and only have to deal with her classmates? Sorryyyyyy.
> 
> I'm so sorry that I haven't focused on the Hufflepuff friendships before. I did a little bit, but not really. There will be PLENTY of that now and small stories of how Emma fits in with the rest of her housemates in her year!
> 
> Also - oh, no. I was called out so hard on Discord that I forgot to include my goodnight note! I am so so sorry that I forgot it. I think I was super excited that I had a new chapter to post. Taking a break has been so incredibly difficult for me because it's just not really in my nature. I can now say that we're back to our regularly scheduled programming
> 
> That being said - To all of my late night readers, please go to sleep, good night and have very very sweet dreams! I'll try not to forget this again. :)
> 
> Also, if you want to come join the Gremlin pack, join the Discord! We have plenty of inside jokes, lots of fun, and everyone is amazing.
> 
> **come find me on:**   
>  [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/mymoonyandstars)   
>  [facebook](https://www.facebook.com/mymoonyandstars)   
>  [the moonlit stars discord](https://discord.gg/DtrKMhaTHR)
> 
> [spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/r6xi6203vwza01epk6askwk15?si=t4wwYBERRymTJvw09FJG3Q)  
> 


	36. Another Birthday Boggart

Emma felt as though she couldn't get back down to the dorms fast enough. Her first order of business was to see Professor Sprout to figure out how therapy would work that year. It took an extraordinary amount of begging on Emma's part to convince Sprout to reach out to Remus to try and cancel that night's appointment. With Emma returning to school, the Ministry had been willing to reopen the Floo at the cottage for calls only. It would be last minute, but Emma just didn't have the energy to go through with it.

Sprout must have Floo called Remus right away as Sirius was at the ready when she made it to the dorm. She stepped around the curtain and met Sirius's sympathetic gaze. Sirius didn't even bother waiting for Emma to say anything and got up from her bed. The moment Emma was in Sirius's arms, she broke down into tears.

"I just want to go home," Emma cried. "T-take me home with you."

"Oh, sweetheart," Sirius murmured into Emma's hair. "I'm so sorry that you've had a rough day. Daddy told me about the letters."

"It got worse," Emma choked out.

"All right," Sirius said softly, rubbing Emma's back and making soothing noises to try and calm her. "Shhh, try and calm down, or you'll make yourself sick. Do you need me to help you like Daddy does?" Emma managed a weak nod, her breath hitching with her hysterical and broken sobs. "All right, you can do this," Sirius encouraged, taking a deep, albeit shaky, breath and trying to coax Emma into doing the same.

It was a painstakingly slow process to get Emma to a calmer state of mind. He picked Emma up, carried her over to the bed, and sat her down on his lap to keep her close. Just like Remus taught him to do, he reached over for both of her stuffed animals and put them in her arms to hold onto. Slowly, Emma's sobs died out hiccoughs and wide yawns, and she snuggled into Sirius's embrace.

"'M sorry," Emma murmured with a sniffle.

"You've nothing to be sorry about," Sirius said lightly. "You've had a very rough first day back. I have to confess that Daddy and I were worried that this would happen."

"So you two already talked about this? You already knew you were going to come back when you left?"

"Well, we didn't expect things to be this difficult," Sirius admitted. "And I was hoping to be able to come back to be with you. We didn't want to say anything when I wasn't entirely sure that I could. Fortunately, things worked out how they did, and I didn't have to stay out in the rain. I had completely forgotten about the annual sleepover, but I wouldn't have left until I got to be with you."

Emma hummed softly, closing her eyes as she tucked her head under Sirius's chin with another yawn. "'M so tired," she muttered. "I just want to sleep."

"I know, pumpkin," Sirius said. "I know. What do you have after lunch?"

"Double Charms and Transfiguration." Emma tried to make herself as small as possible as she curled up against Sirius. "I don't know that I can go, Papa. Today's been too much, and I'm not strong like your or Daddy."

"You are so strong. So much stronger than Daddy and me. You have had held yourself together so well," Sirius said. "Today wasn't meant to be so hard. We all forgot to mention having your mail redirected, and we feel terrible. Your grandfather made sure that it was one of the first things he did when you went home with it, and Daddy had it set up a few days after he got home. We didn't realize you were still going to need it here."

"People are horrible. I can't believe they would send letters like that to Daddy."

"They are," Sirius agreed. "People are terrible. But what else happened today? Did you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," Emma sighed. "But you want me to, don't you?" Emma took Sirius's silence for confirmation, and she sighed. She gave herself a moment to collect herself before explaining how her entire morning had gone, starting with History of Magic. That wasn't an entirely unexpected situation, they had already figured that would happen, but they had hoped it wouldn't.

Whatever magic existed in Hogwarts would have changed every one of her records. Sirius asked Emma if she had even looked at the name on her schedule and frowned up at him. She hadn't even thought to check. Emma reached into her bag that sat next to them on her bed and pulled out her schedule, and sure enough, it read _Emma Black_. Sprout had never said a word.

"We'll have Daddy get that fixed," Sirius said. "Nice and easy fix."

"But I don't think the rest will be," she said quietly. She took a deep breath and continued to tell Sirius how Potions had gone. His hold on her tightened considerably with his aggravation over what Snape had done to her.

"Slimy, greasy bastard," Sirius growled, pressing a kiss to Emma's head. "You know that we can more than afford a tutor for you, yes?"

"I know," Emma said. "I think I want to look into it. I'm not sure if I can handle a year with Snape. Not without you or Daddy being here, at least."

"All right," Sirius said, smoothing back Emma's hair. "We'll talk to Daddy, and we'll try and get something set up. Honestly, I think me and Daddy will be much happier if you don't have to spend any more time with him. And did anything happen in Defense?"

Emma cast Sirius a reproachful look before launching into her explanation of what happened with Moody. Sirius's brows knit together the more Emma told him, a frown crossing his face.

"It sounds like Moody and doesn't all at once," Sirius said thoughtfully. "I can see him wanting to show what illegal curses look like, but to use you as an example? That seems strange."

"Maybe it's because he's retired and doesn't care," Emma said. "He apologized for it, but…"

"That was your secret to keep," Sirius said. "No one ever needed to know that the curse was cast on you, especially if it was in your file. That's private information."

"But if it helps –"

"It made you uncomfortable," Sirius said firmly. "And it was highly inappropriate. We'll make sure that Daddy knows that, too. But if he knows about Jude…" Sirius trailed off with a sigh as he brushed the backs of his fingers against Emma's cheeks. Whatever he was about to say didn't appear to be that important as he changed the subject. "Are you hungry?"

"No," Emma muttered.

"Why don't you have a kip, then? I think you being tired still doesn't help. You've only got two more classes left, and perhaps Flitwick will let you out early."

Sirius let Emma sleep until nearly the last possible moment, which she appreciated. It didn't do much to help her mood, and she felt she looked terrible with her washed off makeup, but at least she was a little more awake.

"Just two more classes," Sirius said gently, tugging Emma back out of bed. "Two more, and then it's the weekend. Daddy made sure to Floo call and got your records updated, so there won't be any accidental slips during attendance. He said that he will put in an ad in the Prophet, anonymously, of course, to try and find you a tutor. Daddy already put in the approval list for your mail, so that should be taken care of relatively quickly."

A small frown crossed Emma's face as she gathered her things. "Sounds like you two did a lot while I was asleep," she said.

"We worry about you, sweetheart," Sirius said gently, kissing Emma's forehead. He lifted her notebook towards her. "Did you want this for during your break between classes to talk to Daddy? I know that you wouldn't be able to get away with it during Charms or Transfiguration."

"No," Emma said softly. "I'll just wait until dinner."

"Okay," Sirius said, giving Emma a fond smile. "Just a few more hours, and then your weekend will start. I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you, too," Emma said, returning Sirius's smile. She turned to leave, but Sirius called her back, and she looked over her shoulder at him curiously. Sirius looked as though he didn't want to say what he was about to say, and it made Emma worried. Sirius had firmly placed himself in the role of "Fun Parent," and if he was uncomfortable…

"We know that you don't want to," Sirius started carefully, "but Daddy and I want you to see Dr. Wheeler tonight."

Emma felt herself crack a little "But I –"

"Emma, please. It's important."

Both Charms and Transfiguration seemed to last five times longer than they usually would. Remus had worked quickly to make sure Emma's records were correct as Flitwick and McGonagall ran through attendance as expected. She was once again Emma Lupin, and that's all that mattered. She was more than happy for both classes to be over, and though both professors clearly wanted to talk to her, Emma left before they could.

Rather than joining everyone at dinner, Emma avoided everyone as best as she could. She visited the kitchens to get dinner for herself and Sirius and immediately made her way to her dorm. It took Emma far too long to realized that Sirius had taken a shower and borrowed some of the clothing she had from Remus.

"I plan to make sure that Dad goes out to pick me up a few things," Sirius said softly as he looked down at Remus's jumper. "I hope you don't mind for right now…"

"No, of course not," Emma said with a sad smile. "Just makes me miss him more. I know I saw him yesterday, but it's not the same."

Therapy went just as Emma thought it would, and Emma felt like she was reliving her appointment from the previous week. She understood that her fathers wanted her to keep her therapy appointments, but Emma didn't feel it was useful. Rather than helping, Emma felt far more agitated than she did before, and even _that_ seemed to drag on longer than usual.

Since they hadn't come up with a different location for her appointment, Emma found herself in the Hospital wing in Madam Pomfrey's office. It wasn't where Emma wanted to be at all, and she vowed to think of a new location. There had to be a much better location to be in. Through the entirety of her appointment, Emma thought about Moody's words. She tried to convince herself to get looked at after her appointment was over, but she couldn't bring herself to follow through. Perhaps she could get looked at some time in the next few weeks.

Emma was silently grateful that Sirius knew to transform into Padfoot and hide under her bed as her curtains were open when she returned to the dorm. Her immediate reaction was to panic, and she shot nervous glances at the others, who stared at her almost nervously. Though they weren't looking at her with thinly veiled disgust, the other girls still weren't sure of her.

"Why are my curtains opened?" Emma snapped in aggravation. "They were closed for a reason."

"We just wanted to make sure your cat got back safe," Susan said softly. "One of the Ravenclaws…"

"One of the Ravenclaws what?"

"Er, well, one of the boys tried to get to your cat," Megan said, looking pointedly at Figaro. "They figured out who she belonged to – the older boys."

Emma felt her stomach plummet as her eyes shot over to Figaro sitting in her cat-bed, cleaning her paw as cool as can be. "She looks fine," Emma said slowly, looking at the others.

"Because she is," Susan said. "It was honestly fascinating to watch."

"What happened?"

"Well, it appears as though your cat has some sort of modified shield charm," Sally said, glancing over at Figaro. "But she also has a pretty powerful knock-back jinx attached to her. One of the boys managed to get really close to touching her, but before he could get any closer, he was shot clean off his feet."

"About 15 feet away from her, actually," Leanne added. "Your cat – Fig the tag said? – didn't even seem to care. It was like she knew what was going to happen."

"A few more boys tried and had the same thing happen, but then they couldn't get close to her at all," Hannah said quietly. "We decided to see what would happen if we tried to pick her up, and we had no problem whatsoever. We didn't think it was a good idea to let her keep walking around and decided to just bring her back for you."

Emma looked between the girls and Figaro in surprise, and she wasn't entirely sure how to feel. It sounded as though Fenrir had made sure to put protection charms on Figaro's collar that would know if someone had ill-will towards her cat. If the older boys had figured out Figaro was hers, they must have been planning something terrible. Fenrir had clearly anticipated that being an issue and had taken care to make sure nothing would happen, and it was entirely Fenrir's style. Lure someone in, think they have a chance, and then strike. It was both brilliant and disturbing, and Emma couldn't stop the odd surge of appreciation for what he'd done. He knew that Emma would be devastated if something happened to Figaro and made sure nothing would happen. It only made Emma hate Fenrir just a little bit more. The more he did nice things for her, the more annoyed she would get.

"You brought her back for me?" Emma finally questioned, looking between everyone before settling on Hannah.

"We didn't want her to get hurt," Hannah said, sounding unsure of herself. She fidgeted slightly with her fingers before deciding to pull her blonde hair up into a ponytail and turning away. "It was the least we could do."

"We're sorry," Susan added, breaking the stunned silence. "We didn't…" Susan trailed off, looking around at everything else distractedly. "We need time, but we're sorry. We don't…we don't think that you're a werewolf, but we don't understand, either. Apparently, there's a lot we don't understand…"

Emma was completely and utterly shocked. She fidgeted nervously with Fenrir's ring, spinning it around her finger with her thumb as she tried to think of what to say.

"I…thank you," Emma finally managed, focusing her attention on Figaro. "But I think I need time, too. Good night." She quickly made her way to her room and closed the heavy curtains, casting her usual spells. Nervous, Emma dropped down to her floor to peer under her bed and let out a sigh of relief when she found two silver eyes staring back at her.

"I went through the entire routine already," Emma said softly. She frowned when Padfoot didn't move from his spot and remained curled up in his corner. "Are you going to wait until everyone's asleep?" Padfoot gave the smallest of nods, and Emma sighed, reaching up to pull one of her blankets off her bed. Even though they had wide rugs in their little nest areas, Emma couldn't imagine it was particularly comfortable.

"At least take the blanket," Emma said. "I could always come under there with you, you know."

Padfoot gave a soft wuff in response before grabbing into the blanket with his teeth to pull it close. Figaro took the opportunity to sidle underneath Emma's bed to join Padfoot and curled up beside him.

"Well, it seems like someone else has decided to give you company instead," Emma sighed. She watched as Figaro rubbed her face along Padfoot's, her purring loud and tail held up high. "I guess I'll talk to Dad for a bit, then."

As much as Emma hated not having her notebook to talk to Remus, she had to admit she enjoyed reading his conversations with Sirius. She had worried that she would come across something questionable, but all they talked about was her.

Her stomach knotted at the clear worry between both of her fathers about her, their concerns over what she had said, and her behavior. Sirius had missed the worst of her mental state her second year, but he had seen the small snippets of it during their short time they were all together. She hated worrying Remus as it was, but to learn she worried Sirius as well made her sick. Emma thought that she was better, sometimes felt like she was better, but everything felt like it was crashing down on her.

Rubbing her forehead hard, Emma picked up her quill, found the last page written on, and started writing. Remus's letter had been a huge help, but she needed his words in real-time.

She wasn't entirely sure how long she had been talking to Remus when Padfoot finally crawled out from underneath her bed. He shook himself out, and in the blink of an eye, Sirius was standing on two feet.

Emma could see the guilt written all over his face, and she flipped back a few pages in her notebook with an understanding of why. She ran her fingers over the words written down on the page, tears filling her eyes.

"You're leaving already, aren't you?" she asked sadly, lifting the notebook off her lap. "I saw you and Daddy talked about it…"

Sirius sighed and nodded. He sat down in the space next to Emma and pulled her into his arms to hug her tightly. "I'm sorry," he said gently. "I'm so sorry. It's just –"

"It's not safe," Emma finished for him, tossing the notebook aside. "It's really not safe. If they caught you earlier…" Emma's breath hitched with a dry sob and she held onto Sirius as tightly as she could.

"No," Sirius agreed, squeezing Emma tighter. "I love you so much, sweetheart," Sirius said. "Please don't forget that. The moment I can come back, I will. I promise." Sirius leaned back to take Emma's face between his hands, his eyes searching hers. He pulled her face closer to press a tender kiss to her forehead before leaning back to meet her gaze once more. "Please don't do anything rash – I know you get that from me. Daddy and I love you so very much and we don't want you to slip back where you were. You have come so far, and I know things are scary, but you are so very strong, pumpkin. I promise that I will always come back for you." For the first time, Emma felt that she could truly believe him.

Emma felt very alone the very moment Sirius left. She watched Padfoot run as long as she could, hanging onto her windowsill as he departed and only slipping back into her room at the last swish of his tail. She ran her hands over her face and looked over at Figaro with a heavy sigh.

"Guess it's just you and me now, Fig," Emma muttered. She sat back down on her bed, pulling her notebook over to write to Remus and let him know Sirius left.

' _Get some rest, fy nghariad bach_ ,' Remus wrote to her. ' _It will be late when Papa gets here. I don't want you to stay up all night. Rwy'n dy garu di._ '

Emma felt like everything was slowly falling apart, and she could practically feel Remus's insistent stare through the pages. It didn't help that he knew her too well and knew she was already planning to stay up all night. Sirius wouldn't be arriving to the cottage until at least 4 in the morning, if not later, and she wanted to be up when he made it.

' _Rwy'n dy garu di, Daddy_ ,' Emma wrote back reluctantly. ' _Nos da_.' She grabbed her wand to clear the pages, not wanting to bother to write any more that day.

With another, far heavier sigh, Emma flopped back onto her mattress. She grabbed onto Remus's discarded jumper that sat next to her, holding it tightly. Emma had told Sirius just to wear Remus's clothes back home, but he left them for her instead, and she was silently relieved.

The softness of Remus's clothing was soothing to her, familiar and comforting like a warm blanket. In her early days with Remus, she always found solace in wrapping her fingers in the fabric of his clothes. It was undeniable proof that he was there, that he existed, and she loved the way the material felt underneath her fingers. She loved the feel of his thick woolen jumpers and the glide of the fabric of his button-up shirts and found herself missing being able to play with his clothes absent-mindedly. But she couldn't focus on that, not right now.

Too exhausted to sleep, Emma got back up. It was late, but not too late that She crept out of the dorm and made her way over to the boy's dorm, grateful that the other boys were asleep. It was almost like Justin knew that she would make an appearance as his curtain was still open and didn't look too surprised to see her. He set whatever comic book he was reading aside and gave her a knowing smile when he saw her face.

"Give me fifteen minutes, and I'll meet you in the common room," Justin said.

Sometimes Emma swore that Justin had to be an absolute saint as Cedric followed him into the common room. There were times that he seemed to know her better than herself and she had no idea how. Cedric looked groggy, clearly just woken up by Justin, but carried a guitar along with him.

"I hope you don't mind," Justin said, sitting down next to Emma on the couch and throwing an arm around her. "Thought it would be a good idea to bring in reinforcements."

"And I've been looking for an excuse to play this," Cedric said, settling on Emma's other side. "I know how much you love music…"

"I didn't even know you played," Emma said, relaxing against Justin.

"I do," he said. "It's been a while, but hopefully I can still play all right."

Things didn't seem so bleak the next morning when she woke up. She had fallen asleep on Justin, and Cedric had fallen asleep on her with his head on her shoulder, guitar sitting on the table in front of the sofa. At some point, someone had pulled a blanket over all three of them, and Emma couldn't help but smile. Even if no one else bothered to talk to her, she could be fine with who she had. Justin had never left her once, and she had a feeling Cedric wouldn't either. Soleil seemed to be curled up happily in her mind, and Emma knew both boys we considered part of her pack without a doubt.

As she closed her eyes again to take advantage of the last bit of silence in the common room, Emma had to concede that Fenrir had a point. She would never admit it to him, but she had a solid understanding of what he meant when he spoke of the pack. Pack was so much better than having friends; pack meant family.

That weekend seemed to be the start of a near daily occurrence of strange things that decided to precede her fifteenth birthday. Before heading to breakfast that Saturday, Emma had suddenly remembered Fenrir's letter from the day before. She had been silently relieved that it didn't contain much other than information on how to contact him – _Send your letters to F. Grey_ – and – _look out for his letters_. With a begrudging sigh, Emma grabbed her notebook to write to Remus to ask if Fenrir's letters were blocked. Emma wasn't expecting to read that Dumbledore was the one who recommended that line of communication remain open. Remus wanted to keep that particular channel closed, but Dumbledore had other ideas. Emma wasn't sure that she wanted to know why and silently reminded herself she still needed to speak to him about what she learned.

Breakfast was once again an issue as the redirect on her mail hadn't taken effect. It seemed that she had even more mail than the day before, and with the help of Justin, Cedric, and George, they made their way through the piles. Emma was surprised to see that Hannah and Susan joined in on the task.

To Emma's aggravation, several people had even decided to send Howlers. _The nerve._ Unfortunately, no spell that George or Cedric could think of worked to silence the screaming letters. She flinched violently at the Howler that screeched at her. It took Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick's quick dash to where they sat to silence the letters as they arrived.

"You've got a letter from Gringotts," George said, passing the envelope to Emma. "And it appears a letter from that Healer at St. Mungo's."

Emma was more than delighted that Elara had written to her, but it was the letter from Gringotts that fascinated her most. She had seen Gringotts statements before, but her account was opened a few weeks prior. It seemed odd that they would send her one so soon, and it felt even stranger that _she_ would receive the letter and not Remus.

She split the envelope and pulled out the letter as George and Cedric went to find Sprout to give her the pile of letters. Emma quickly grew confused; it wasn't a bank statement at all, but a deposit notice and she choked on her pumpkin juice as she read the following words:

> _A deposit of 432 Galleons, 8 Sickles, and 3 Knuts has been made to your account._

Emma stared at the letter in absolute shock. _From what_? She knew that wasn't the contribution Jude had to make monthly, and she doubted that was an investment. There wasn't enough time for her to accrue a balance that high, and as the name on the statement read Emelyn Nickels, she knew it wasn't the Black family vault. Did Sirius have Remus make a deposit in her account? She had no idea what to think.

On Sunday, it appeared that some more of her classmates were starting to warm up to her again. Having enjoyed playing his guitar for Emma, Cedric had begun to play in the common room with everyone else around. She worked quietly on the homework that the fourth years had already been given, with Cedric at her side playing his guitar. When Wayne slowly made his way over to join her, she was suspicious but didn't dare question it.

Wayne Hopkins had been Emma's first real crush while at Hogwarts. She had found herself having feelings for a few of her classmates by the end of their first year, but Wayne had won her over first.

He was tall with wavy, dark hair and blue eyes, and Emma always felt very comfortable with him. She wasn't as close to Wayne like she was with Justin, but they were friendly with each other. Wayne was always sweet to her with brilliant humor that always had her laughing. It was with dawning realization as she looked over at Wayne that she understood why she had liked him so much – he reminded her of Sirius.

While she wasn't close with Wayne like she once was, she would take any allies she could get. As the night continued on, even Susan and Hannah decided to join them, their conversation as civil and polite as it always used to be.

By Monday morning, Emma thought that Hell had to have completely frozen over. The Hogwarts rumor mill seemed to have worked at least five times faster than usual. Luckily the Slytherin and Hufflepuff pact of secrecy meant that no one outside of their class knew of her experience with the Cruciatus. However, Moody's absolute refusal to believe that Emma was a werewolf had left their class and created a clear divide amongst the students of Hogwarts. Some wanted to believe Moody, others were firm believers that Emma was without a doubt a werewolf, and others were conflicted. However, no one seemed more conflicted than her old roommates from Saint Nicholas's.

Persephone pulled Emma out into the entryway in the middle of breakfast to join the crowd that was being made. Emma was startled to see Jocelyn and Chloe practically at each other's throats and was more surprised to find that it was because of her. She watched on in awed horror as Jocelyn and Chloe screamed at each other, their voices shrill and cracking with their anger.

Chloe, to Emma's shock, had firmly rooted herself in Emma's corner. Jocelyn, not at all to Emma's surprise, felt that Emma was increasingly dangerous. Emma watched as Chloe sent a Bat-Bogey Hex at her sister before stomping off and ignoring Jocelyn's enraged shouting. The crowd very slowly dispersed as Jocelyn rushed up the stairs to the hospital wing and cast Emma furtive glances as they left.

"What the fuck just happened?" Emma asked Persephone when she finally found her voice.

"I have no idea, but they have been at it all weekend," Persephone muttered. "Good job, Little Lupin – you've managed to become the first hot topic at Hogwarts two years in a row."

"Oh, wonderful," Emma muttered. "Just what I wanted to be…"

Herbology felt like a strange class to start her day with after witnessing Jocelyn and Chloe's fight. It was even more bizarre that Neville, her usual Herbology partner, barely talked to her. Emma liked having Herbology in the mornings, even in the winter, because it gave her a welcome start to her day. She enjoyed the relative peace of working in the soil and sometimes playing with the plants, but Neville's lack of communication made Emma confused. Neville insisted that nothing was wrong, but it was unlike him to be short with her; something was clearly bothering him. She hoped that it was just Neville having a hard time readjusting to being back at school, but she wasn't entirely sure. Emma could only hope that it wasn't because of her.

It was almost unfortunate that her day was filled with her extracurricular classes. Care of Magical Creatures was an absolute nightmare with Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts. Ancient Runes had mostly been all right, but Emma found herself oddly bored after working on the subject with Remus. After lunch was Divination, and Emma almost immediately regretted adding the class back into her schedule. The very moment Trelawney opened her mouth, Emma questioned how Fenrir managed to convince her to continue with the subject. Persephone couldn't stop her snickering the entire class, amused by Emma's aggravated huffs and over-exaggerated eye rolls. At least it was only one day a week that year, but two hours at one time was too much.

Emma was very fortunate that she made it into the entrance hall after Charms just in time to witness Draco being transformed into a ferret by Moody. While she had no idea what Draco had done, she was sure that he deserved it. She would be committing the memory of Draco as a ferret to live in her mind forever.

Tuesday seemed to be the day that each significant werewolf in her life decided to write to her. Her mail redirect had finally started to work, and she was happy to receive letters from Remus and Elara. However, a third, more annoying letter arrived from Fenrir as well.

Remus's letter was a rehash of everything he had already told her but was sent for appearance's sake. Emma had been mortified to learn that Remus hadn't immediately put in an ad in the Daily Prophet but instead wrote to his ex-professor, Horace Slughorn. She was relieved that Slughorn wasn't interested in teaching as she had found the man odd when she met him, but her relief was short-lived. Slughorn had decided to reach out to Snape for suggestions on a tutor, and Emma knew that Snape had to know who it was for. She wasn't looking forward to Potions for the rest of the week because of it, but apparently, Snape had someone in mind. Emma was already dreading to find out who it was.

Elara's letter was of a lighter variety as it usually was but was also for appearances. She had practically moved back into the cottage and used the notebook just as much as Remus or Sirius did. The letters were mostly meant to cover all the issues that she couldn't discuss with her fathers. When Emma mentioned George had been acting funny around her lately, Elara more than rose to the occasion. Elara was determined to help Emma figure things out, and Emma was beyond grateful.

Fenrir's letter was short but explained far more than Emma expected.

> _The Gringotts deposit is your cut of the Wolfsbane Potion's sales and your winnings from the World Cup. Treat yourself. You deserve nice things for the hard work you did, and I expect more of that from you._
> 
> _While I believe the Wolfsbane Potion is a very-well marketed poison, I can appreciate the effort it took to make. You made it look effortless. Remember - never do something that you're good at for free._
> 
> _Always yours,_
> 
> _Fenrir_

Emma was both appalled and amazed. The money was _hers_? She had unwittingly worked with Fenrir, and he gave her a cut of the sales? Even more surprising, the pouch that Fenrir sent with her to the World Cup was _actually_ hers? Raoul had mentioned it, but it just seemed odd that Fenrir would do such a thing. The way his letter was phrased suggested that he more than expected her to work with him again; she would have to tread carefully.

Luckily her Tuesday was an easy day but starting it off with double Defense left her uneasy. Emma still wasn't sure that she liked Moody and was embarrassed when he apologized to her again and asked her if she had been checked by Madam Pomfrey. He seemed only mildly annoyed that she hadn't. Still, his disappointment was evident, and he gruffly mentioned she should do it soon. Emma decided she would go that Saturday.

Wednesday held her first Potions lesson of the week, and just as Emma suspected, Snape was relentless as always. She knew he was trying to force her into saying something stupid and worked hard to tune him out. Somehow Snape made Hagrid's Skrewts seem like much better company when she made her way to Care of Magical Creatures after.

"What?" Emma snapped, setting down the deep navy colored dress

Everything felt much different on Thursday when Emma woke up. It was her last day of being fourteen. She wasn't sure if she should lament the sudden, surprising loss of her childhood or celebrate making it another year. Her birthday was going to change everything, and she was terrified of what it would mean. She half expected Fenrir to come marching straight up to Hogwarts to demand that she leave with him. Emma refused to allow herself to think about it and hauled herself out of bed. It wouldn't do well for her to dwell on it too much, and she had double Potions to get through that day.

Emma was surprised when the only piece of mail she received was her dress robes from Madam Malkin's. She had been anxiously awaiting to see what Persephone had come up with, and Emma was not disappointed. Even Megan, Leanne, and Sally, who still hadn't quite warmed up to her, had to stop their conversations to stare.

The dress robes were far more beautiful than Emma ever expected them to be. She wasn't sure what to expect for her first set, but Persephone had helped design something perfect for her. The dress itself was the color of the night sky, a dark wash of a deep navy-blue velvet with a low neckline that made her blush. If Emma was correct, when she put it on, it would flare out at her waist and, with the right shoes, would just barely brush the floor. The dress's slim straps made Emma a little worried, she would have preferred sleeves, but the dress wouldn't have looked the same.

While the dress itself was plain, it was the rest of the outfit that brought out its beauty. Along with the dress came the most ornate cape Emma had ever seen. The cape was made of some sort of floaty, see-through material that seemed to shift from a brilliant blue to almost black. The cape was dotted with brilliant, sparkly crystals and had a beautiful, embroidered celestial motif that made Emma smile. Persephone knew her all too well, and the embroidered white stars seemed to shift along with the brilliant gold-colored suns and silver crescent moons.

Curious, Emma decided to see how the cape would sit on her body, and she threw it on over her school robes with amazement. It sat just off her shoulders and fanned out in a wide circle at the bottom. The cape fastened in the front with a brilliant, glittering clasp in the shape of the sun, and Emma was never more appreciative.

"I see it's finally come in," Persephone said, coming over to inspect her handiwork with a wide, brilliant smile. "It came out so much better than I thought it would. Now you've got everyone with you when you wear this. I thought you'd like something that you could get more use out of with separate pieces. The cape is gorgeous."

"It's perfect," Emma said, doing a quick little walk at the insistence of Susan, and she beamed at how the cape fluttered out behind her. She hoped that when everything was put all together, she would feel as ethereal as she thought the outfit looked. "Thank you, Eff. Really."

"Better watch out, George," Cedric said over to the Gryffindor table. "I think you might be with one of the prettiest girls in the entire school."

Emma couldn't stop herself from smacking Cedric's arm. "You're such an absolute git sometimes," she laughed, pulling the cape off and placing it back in the box. "I'm not that pretty at all."

"You are beautiful," Justin said. "Right, George?"

"Right," George said with a smile. "Absolutely beautiful." Emma couldn't help but notice the way his smile didn't quite meet his eyes. When Emma asked George what was wrong, he insisted that everything was fine, but it bothered Emma for the entire day.

When Emma woke up the next day, it felt like her birthday had brought along the definitive and resolute loss of her childhood. She didn't think it would feel real, and Emma felt like the heaviest weight in the world had been placed on her shoulders.

In one world, possibly the most important one, she had just become of age, but in the other, she still had another two years. It had always bothered Emma that she didn't quite fit in either world, but it felt so much more apparent that morning. She had big decisions to make, and time was ticking far quicker than she wanted it to, with no time for her to really think. The Professors had already started to pile on the homework, and it was only the first week of school. If the school year went the way it began, Emma worried she wouldn't be able to do any of the research she wanted _before_ she had to see Fenrir. There were things she wanted to educate herself on before that day arrived, and she still worried that it would be that day.

Not wanting to think about it right then, she picked up her very warm notebook from her nightstand. Emma smiled as she opened it and activated the pages.

Remus, Sirius, and Elara wrote pages and pages and pages for her to read. Emma was so happy to read their words and heartbroken at the same time. The pages were full of favorite memories, promises Emma wasn't sure they could really keep, and incredibly loving words. They all knew just how worried she was about what the day could bring and tried to find every little thing that would make her feel better. Emma wished she could convey just how much their words meant to her.

Emma tried to approach the day as if it were any other day. She wasn't expecting much from anyone except for her parents and Elara, which she was okay with. Emma could be content if everyone else forgot her birthday, but when she made it to the Great Hall, it appeared that wouldn't be the case.

Her eyes grew wide in surprise as George quickly pulled her over to the Hufflepuff table with a delighted, "Happy birthday!" George sat her down between a surprising group of people before sitting next to her with a smile. With an even wider smile, George picked up a plate of her favorite cinnamon sugar toast that had a candle speared into the top of the stack.

An embarrassed flush crept across Emma's cheeks as she took a look at who was actually present – she didn't expect it at all. Fred was a given addition to the group. Luna sat across the table next to Neville and Caspian. Wayne, Susan, and Hannah were sitting a little closer than usual. Justin and Cedric sat to her other side, with Persephone joining the small group just as George started off singing _Happy Birthday_. Ron, Harry, and Hermione made their way over at the end of the song, and Emma's face felt like it was on fire.

"Make a wish," George said when the song was finished, his eyes glittering. Emma looked at him with a smile and then turned her attention to the candle, trying to think hard about what to wish for.

In truth, there were a lot of things that Emma could wish for. She could wish for a Time-Turner to try and fix things or wish for her family to be all together. She could wish for a massive purple polka-dotted rhino or a glittering fairy companion. Emma knew that it was just a silly tradition to wish on a candle, but it didn't really matter for the moment. If Emma really had to make a wish, there was only one that she had. Casting the candle a wary look, Emma blew it out with the wish of her and her family's happiness. Emma only took in a breath when she decided the candle wasn't a trick candle; with Fred and George, one could never be too sure.

"I hope you made a good wish," Justin said with a grin.

"Yeah, I think so," Emma said, pulling out the candle and taking a bite of her toast.

Fred pulled Emma's piece of toast out of her hand and shoved a pile of gifts into her hand. "Here, open ours first!" Fred said excitedly, grabbing one of the boxes and passing it over to George to hang onto. Emma couldn't help but stop her laugh, even though she really wanted to eat. It appeared that she was expected to get through gifts first before eating, and she didn't entirely mind.

The Weasleys seemed to have outdone themselves. From Fred, she received what appeared to be a small menagerie of animated animal figurines. She marveled at the tiny animals that walked around in their cages, from roaring lions and tigers to even, to Emma's amusement, a pink hippopotamus. George had given her a diary that would only allow her to write in it if she gave it a joke or a riddle and would give her one in return. From Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, she received a quilted blanket in beautiful shades of yellow and homemade sweets.

Neville gave her another plant, this time of the magical variety, that seemed to have a mind of its own like the Hufflepuff's plants. Emma enjoyed waving at the plant and having it wave back to her. She swore that it had eyes hidden within the confines of its purple petals.

Harry and Ron gave Emma a large box with various candies, and Hermione gave her a new quill and a bottle of vibrant purple ink. Luna gave her a set of handmade earrings meant to keep away Nargles that matched the pair she wore and paint with paintbrushes.

Emma was in the middle of sorting through the pile of candy that Wayne, Susan, and Hannah decided to give her when the morning post arrived. Her stomach did an excited little flutter of what she would receive from her family. She was only expecting to receive three gifts in the morning post, but six owls arrived, dropping boxes of various sizes.

"Oh, looks like mum sent something," Persephone said, eying one of the boxes with a bronze bow with a knowing look. Persephone looked at the small box with the emerald bow and hummed to herself. "And it appears you've got something from Narcissa."

"Narcissa? Really?" Emma said, carefully opening Persephone's gift.

"Everything she sends will be in Slytherin colors," Persephone explained. "And that's from both Cas and I, by the way," she added in explanation as Emma opened the box and immediately grinned, pulling out a Holyhead Harpies jersey.

"Is this your way of telling me that this is the team I should support?" Emma laughed.

"It's an all women's team. Of course, you should support them!" Persephone said.

"The Catapults are better," Emma pointed out, putting the jersey back in its box before moving along. "They're usually in a higher standing than the Harpies."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to you talking about Quidditch. Remus ruined you."

Emma snorted and accepted Justin's gift. Justin's gift seemed to set Emma up for a day of pampering herself. He gave her a gift basket that contained a book, a nice smelling bubble bath, skin creams, and even a candle.

"I had mum help me," Justin admitted with a sheepish grin. "After the summer you had, I wasn't sure how much relaxing you really got to do."

"And I'll give you the password to the Prefect's bathroom," Cedric said quietly to Emma before lifting his guitar and handing it to Emma.

"Am I holding this for you?" Emma questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm giving it to you," Cedric said. "You like music a lot, and the guitar seemed to relax you."

"I don't even know how to play," Emma said in surprise. She started to hand Cedric back his guitar with wide-eyes. "Cedric, I can't take this – this is yours."

"And I want you to have it," Cedric said, stopping Emma from trying to hand the guitar back. "I'll teach you – I promise. You'll be a professional by the end of the year."

"Thank you," Emma sighed, giving Cedric a tight hug in appreciation. She pulled back and looked at the pile still left on the table. "I think I should eat and probably take everything back. I'll open the rest there."

Emma realized it was an excellent idea that she took everything back to the dorms instead of opening everything at the table. She was even more grateful that it was Persephone who went with her to drop everything off. The gifts she received started off normal enough but seemed to get progressively more interesting as she went on.

From Lyall, she received a new set of dragonhide gloves. From Narcissa, she received a beautiful jewel-encrusted jewelry box with the Black family crest on it with a letter saying it was once hers as a young girl. Remus and Sirius put together Emma's typical gift of chocolates, a few new books, a new set of crystal vials, and silver scales to replace her brass scales.

Persephone nearly fell on the floor with laughter at Elara's gift and Emma's horror of what she had received. Elara had added a note to not open her present in front of anyone, which made Emma curious. The gift Elara gave her started off innocently enough with a nice set of fresh skincare items, and it made Emma question the note, but then she understood. Emma was _not_ expecting to receive possibly the fanciest set of underwear she had ever seen with an added note of, " _Just in case._ "

"My God," Persephone said, doubling over in laughter as Emma's face grew redder and redder. Persephone reached into the box to look at what Emma swore was just black strings with lacy bits. "This is even better than when we went shopping for your first bras our second year! You about died in the lingerie section!"

"It is _not_!" Emma said sharply. "I can't help it that we got shit knickers at Saint Nicholas's, and I was startled by the selection in the store. I had never seen lingerie before and didn't even know it existed. I certainly didn't go in thinking I would ever to own something like _this_!"

"You have such an incredible aversion to being sexy," Persephone laughed, wiping her tears of mirth from her eyes. "Oh, Merlin, Remus would have a fit if he knew about this."

"No wonder Elle sent her gift separately," Emma said, hastily shoving everything back into the box. "Dad would absolutely have a fit. Definitely going to have to make sure these are very well hidden."

"You should wear that little number under your new dress," Persephone said, waggling her eyebrows. "You'll feel like an absolute _goddess_."

Only two gifts were left sitting on Emma's bed, and she frowned when she realized who the unspoken gift was most likely from. She grabbed the present from Sage first and unwrapping it. A sad smile crossed Emma's face as she pulled out what looked like a photo album, and she looked up at Persephone. Persephone returned Emma's sad smile and sat down on the bed next to her.

Emma opened the book and huffed out a soft laugh as she was greeted with photos of her younger self with Persephone. She only had vague memories of the pictures being taken, and she laid her head on Persephone's arm as she flipped through.

"We were so small," Emma said quietly. "Things were so much easier then…"

"Mum must have gotten them from Dad," Persephone said. "She didn't see them until a few years ago but only saw a few of them."

"Oh, God," Emma said, pointing at a photo with the two of them and a much smaller Boris. "I don't remember this photo being taken at all."

"I don't either," Persephone said. "We really were little, weren't we?" She looked up at the last package. "That one's from Fenrir, isn't it?"

"Most likely," Emma said quietly, setting the photo album aside and pulling the last box onto her lap. It was on the smaller side and had a letter on top. "Look at what he sent or the letter first?" Emma asked Persephone.

"See what he sent first," Persephone said.

Emma nodded, taking the letter and setting it off to the side. The box was thin and only wrapped with a bow. Emma pulled the string and opened the box, bracing herself for what it would contain. The moment the lid was off the box, Emma nearly burst into hysterical laughter. After making terrible jokes about Fenrir giving her a collar, it appeared he had done precisely that.

"Oh, you've got to be bloody kidding me," Emma muttered to herself, pulling out a white-gold chained choker necklace. It was similar to the necklace Remus had given her but with a shorter chain and a jewel-encrusted crescent moon that faced the opposite direction. When Emma looked at the pendant closer, she could only roll her eyes. On the back of the pendant was an engraved letter G in an elegant script. She could practically hear Fenrir's thoughts on his gift choice. It was ornate enough to appease whatever pure-blood tendencies he had left, and the shorter chain had multiple meanings. The necklace's short chain meant it would be her most prominent necklace. It would essentially put Fenrir above everyone else and signified the very short leash he would have her on.

"Em, you're not going to wear that, are you?" Persephone asked, her eyes growing wide.

"I don't want to," Emma said quietly, setting the necklace down to open Fenrir's letter. "I don't trust him not to have eyes somewhere in the castle, though."

"But what if you put it on and it seals itself? What if you can never take it off?"

Emma glanced up from Fenrir's letter to frown at Persephone. "We've got Moody here," Emma pointed out. "And we've got Dumbledore. I'm sure if it did, someone could figure out how to get it off."

Fenrir's letter contained everything she thought it would. It was equal parts threatening and him being over-excited for what the future would bring. The last few paragraphs of Fenrir's letter stuck out in her mind the most, and she had to reread them several times.

> _Just because you refuse to write back, it changes nothing, Emma. Pretending that I don't exist means nothing to me, and you know that. However, your acting like a petulant child makes me question just how serious you really are. You're an adult in our world now – start acting like it._
> 
> _We will be powerful together, but I will not hesitate to put you in your place. I would like to have a willing mate – you will never want for anything at my side. But we will discuss all of this when we meet during your first Hogsmeade trip. When you finally accept the decision to join the pack where you belong, I will explain everything to you. I will be expecting to hear from you when the date is made available; don't make me find out from someone else._
> 
> _Time's ticking, Emma. I eagerly await the acceptance of what you truly are._
> 
> _Always yours,_
> 
> _Fenrir_

Fenrir had made it clear on several occasions that he wasn't going to use Persephone for intel any longer. His reference of hearing from someone else about Hogsmeade meant that there was someone else she needed to worry about, but she didn't know who. Once more, Fenrir was leaving her with very little wiggle room, but at least he confirmed he would give her until Hogsmeade. That wouldn't be until at least the next month and gave her the time that she needed.

"Well," Emma said, picking up the necklace and unclasping it, "looks like I don't have too much of a choice."

"What do you mean?"

"He'll know if I'm not wearing the necklace," Emma said, clasping it carefully around her neck. She held her fingers against the clasp, nervous that Persephone was right and that it would seal itself, but it remained an ordinary necklace. "I'm going to be doing far worse things than wearing yet another gift from Fenrir. I think his ring is far worse than a necklace."

Emma spent her time in the back of the History of Magic classroom writing to Remus in her notebook and telling him about her morning. She told him about every gift she received but made sure to keep the one half of Elara's present and Fenrir's gift to herself. Emma told Remus nearly everything, but he didn't need to know about those. Near the end of the class, which Emma absolutely didn't pay attention to, she started to feel cheeky. With a soft, huffed out breath, Emma found herself thinking of her fourteenth birthday.

' _At least I don't have to worry about dealing with a Boggart this year,_ ' she wrote with a small grin.

' _Merlin, you are going to remind me of that every year now, aren't you?_ ' Remus wrote back, nearly making Emma giggle.

' _Considering it was a terrible idea of a lesson to do on my birthday – yes, I am going to remind you every single year._ '

' _I suppose that I deserve that. And I will never stop apologizing for it._ '

' _You made up for it in the end,_ ' Emma replied. Remus had managed to outdo himself after his terrible Boggart lesson by showing her his memories in the Pensieve. ' _I just wish that you were here…_ '

Emma considered bunking off Potions for her birthday but didn't want to give Snape a reason to give her detention. She slowly made her way down to the dungeons, taking as much time as possible, Justin walking beside her. Emma had to admit that she was having a much better day than she ever could have expected. She felt loved and appreciated, and even though her birthday meant monumental changes, it didn't matter. Her friends – _her pack_ – came together to make sure that she would have a wonderful day.

She was in the middle of laughing at something that Justin said when it quickly died out, catching in her chest with a sharp gasp. Every single hair on her body raised, and she had to do a double-take to make sure that she wasn't seeing things. Despite being in the Potion's classroom, Emma was positive that a Boggart had crept its way into the dungeons. She wasn't even aware of what her Boggart would be until she was suddenly faced with it in person.

"Em, you all right?" Justin asked, putting a hand on Emma's shoulder and giving her a small shake.

"Dunno," Emma said, genuinely meaning it, for standing next to Snape's desk glaring at her was the younger Greyson Fenmore.

She should have bunked off Potions, after all. Happy birthday to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEHEHEHEHEH. Anyway - a lot happened this chapter. A lot more is going to happen. The rest of the chapters shouldn't be so jampacked....I don't think. I say that and then I wind up turning myself into a liar.
> 
> I want to give a sincere thank you to the wonderful members on my discord - Lucasjan from here, BlinkHawkeye from ao3, and Nerodeath (I'm so sorry, I forget where you said you read this - let me know and I can fix this) - for helping me figure out what to do for Emma's birthday. I was struggling so much with what to do and between the three of them they helped to compile an insane list of gifts. I hope you don't mind how I made things fit together, and I can't thank you enough for helping me figure things out!
> 
> Also, if you have a moment - check out the fics that BlindHawkeye has written for me that are in this universe! They're so funny and she's so creative! I swear I re-read them every day because they make me smile, so give her some love as well! :)
> 
> To all of my late night readers - please go to sleep, good night and sweet dreams!
> 
> Come join the Gremlin pack and join the Discord if you'd like to help me out from time to time!
> 
> **come find me on:**   
>  [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/mymoonyandstars)   
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> 
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> 


	37. A Birthday Match

Two weeks. That's how long Greyson would be in the castle teaching _her_ class specifically, and Emma was beyond annoyed with that information. Emma would have two weeks free of Snape but two weeks stuck with Greyson Fenmore. That seemed like an even worse trade-off. When he mentioned getting his Potions Mastery, Greyson failed to mention he wanted his Mastery so that he could _teach_ Potions. It wasn't like they had a terribly long conversation in Flourish and Blotts before things went awry. Still, Emma felt it was important information to know. Emma couldn't help but wonder what exactly she did in her life to deserve a punishment so cruel.

Right from the start of class, Emma _despised_ Greyson. Even if she didn't meet him already, he would have annoyed her just because of who he was. It was almost fortunate that she had that information beforehand, as she would have been even more annoyed otherwise.

She was aggravated by how well-spoken he was. She hated the way that nearly the entire class seemed to respond quickly to him. Most willingly raised their hands to answer his questions as he went through their unexpected revision of undetectable poisons – was that even supposed to be their lesson of the day? It seemed like another cruel trick of Snape's to find every possible way to annoy Emma without actually doing so. Clearly, the start of fifteen was meant to be just as difficult as fourteen.

Emma _especially_ hated the way he kept looking at her as though she was below him. Having to pay attention to him at all was infuriating; her mind struggling to process who she was looking at. If she looked at Greyson the wrong way, peering up from her notebook from beneath her eyelashes, she would see Fenrir. If she looked at him straight-on, when he wasn't looking at her, he looked nothing like his father, but he had the arrogance to match. When his eyes would manage to find hers, she would have to stifle her gasps of surprise out of existence. Her mind would only see Fenrir until she forced herself to look at the rest of his face.

Half-way through the class, Emma couldn't help but sit up a little straighter when she noticed the other girls were staring hard at Greyson. It was the exact sort of look that Emma could recall them giving her father once she started noticing it, and Emma's aggravation grew. A few of the Ravenclaw boys seemed to have known who Greyson was from their first year, but the girls were oblivious. Why would they even look at Greyson like that? Did they not realize who he was? It wasn't like he was _that_ cute…not really.

The very moment the thought crossed Emma's mind, her stomach did a funny little flip, and she felt herself go into a mild panic. Did she just think Greyson was _cute_? Did that mean she thought _Fenrir_ was cute? There was absolutely no way that she could ever think that about either of them, though Greyson's hair did have a nice little swoop to it…and he did look fit with a tie on. And perhaps he _did_ have a rather fit bum and –

 _Oh, Merlin's saggy tits, Emma, no!_ Emma thought to herself. Why in the world was she even looking at Greyson's bum at all?

She slammed her notebook closed and crossed her arms over her chest, drawing everyone's attention to her with the noise. Mandy, sitting to her left, gave her a funny look, but no one gave her a stranger look than Greyson. Emma practically glowered at Greyson, daring him to say something to her. His eyes narrowed, and his lips parted slightly as if he was about to say something, but he hesitated.

"If you feel the need to take house points away, you are entirely within your right," Snape drawled from his desk. "It wouldn't be the first time that Miss Lupin has done something out of turn in this classroom."

Greyson's eyes flicked over to Snape, an eyebrow lifting in that aggravatingly similar arch that Emma wanted to claw off his face. "Is that so?" he questioned before meeting Emma's gaze with mild curiosity.

"Remind me to inform you of her…history," Snape said slowly. "If anyone gives you an issue within this classroom, it will be her."

"Excuse me, Professor," Emma said sharply, not caring to raise her hand. "By history, what exactly are you referring to? My attendance and work have been exemplary."

"Need I remind you of your second year, Miss Lupin?"

"You can't tell _him_ that," Emma snarled out. Emma felt her panic grow at the very idea of Greyson knowing what she had done. It was embarrassing enough that Fenrir knew. The idea of his son knowing her history as well seemed infinitely worse. She didn't even know why she cared – it wasn't like Greyson mattered to her, but Emma didn't want him knowing. He already judged her harshly when she wasn't a full werewolf. She didn't need to give him something else to judge her for. "That is confidential information."

"And yet the entire school knows about it," Snape said with a one-shouldered shrug. "As Mr. Fenmore is presently undergoing his Mastery, he will need to be informed of difficult cases such as yours. For the next two weeks, he will be considered a part of the Hogwarts teaching staff, and therefore _any and all_ information in your record is available."

Emma never hated the fact that her eyes would well up with tears when she was angry more than that moment. She could feel the way Soleil wanted to pull herself up to the surface, could feel the way her face wanted to twist into a feral snarl. Every part of her wanted to lash out at Snape, and she had to take a steadying breath in through her nose that caught on its release at Greyson's words.

"Perhaps it would be best if I don't know, Severus," Greyson said in an oddly gentle tone, pulling his gaze from Emma's face to look at Snape. "It's not my place to know. If, er…if Miss Lupin feels that it's something that she needs to share, I would rather her do it on her time."

Emma knew she had an idiotic look on her face as she looked at Greyson. She had absolutely stopped breathing, and she blinked several times to clear the tears that had welled up in her eyes. Greyson stared at her for a moment longer before clearing his throat and moving along with the lesson at Snape's shrug.

If Emma thought she hated Snape, she hated Greyson Fenmore even more. She hated him with every fiber of her being. How dare he try to pretend he was nice and how dare he actually be _good_ at teaching. Even though she was well-versed in her knowledge of poisons, a topic she had taken very seriously after doing it to herself, she found herself learning new things.

Emma found herself packing impossibly fast the moment the bell rang. She was too far too distracted for her own good, and it wasn't good. This was an absolute disaster. How was she going to tell Remus about this? Oh, dear Merlin, he barely believed her as it was, and now to try and tell him that Greyson was _right there_? He was going to insist that she needed more therapy and that she was completely losing it.

"Oh, I didn't get to say it at breakfast, but happy birthday, Emma," Mandy said with a smile before walking off with Anthony.

Emma could feel her cheeks turn pink as Greyson's curious gaze found her again. He was talking to Stephen Cornfoot at the next table over, and at the mention of Emma's birthday, Greyson looked at her. His stupid eyebrows were raised as he looked at her, and Emma forced herself to look away.

"It's your birthday?" he asked her.

"Yep," Emma said, making sure the end of the word popped. She didn't want to talk to him.

"So, you're finally fifteen then? You're not nearly-fifteen, anymore?"

"Yep."

Greyson hummed thoughtfully to himself with a slight nod. "Well…happy birthday, then," he said. Greyson gave her a once-over before one corner of his lips lifted into a grin. "That just means you look like you're thirteen to me, then," he said dryly.

Emma wasn't sure if she wanted to smack his smile off his face, rip it off with her nails, or…she wouldn't entertain the thought. She let out an annoyed chuckle, running her tongue over her teeth.

"Thanks," she said with a smile she was sure was a grimace.

Defense Against the Dark Arts wasn't any better than Potions. Moody was still continuing his lessons with curses, and more than once, Emma thought to herself she would have preferred the Boggart. When Moody finally gave them a short break, Emma turned to Persephone with a blank look.

"Effie, did you have _any_ idea that Greyson is in the castle?" Emma asked.

Persephone's expression shifted from confusion to horror and then to a shocked amusement. "You're kidding," she said slowly. "You're not…are you serious?"

"Oh, I'm quite serious," Emma said. "He failed to mention that he wants his Potion's Mastery so that he can _teach_ Potions."

"He wants to teach Potions?" Persephone asked, her brow furrowing slightly. She looked lost in thought for a moment, and her eyes grew wide with a sudden, "Oh, no."

"What? Why would you say that?"

"Em, didn't you say Remus was going to find you a Potion's tutor? And he wrote back and said that Snape had a suggestion?"

"Well, yes, but what does that…" Emma trailed off, the gears in her brain slowly starting to process what Persephone was trying to point out to her. "Oh, you've got to be bloody kidding me. Greyson's meant to be my tutor, isn't he? The absolute bastard…"

"I mean, Greyson is perfect, but –"

"There is no way I am letting Greyson be my tutor!" Emma hissed to Persephone. "Do you know how terrible of an idea that is?" Emma took a look around the room to make sure that no one was paying attention. Her gaze fell on Moody for one brief moment, her lips pressing into a thin line as she watched his magical eye swivel about, but she shook her head. "Effie, besides the fact I absolutely hate him, it wouldn't be fair with everything I need to do."

"What do you need to do? It's not like you're going and running off to…well, you know where with you know who," Persephone said. She let out an exasperated sigh at the look on Emma's face. "Just because he said you have to doesn't mean that you do."

"It's not as though I have any other job prospects with the Ministry being so far up my arse when I'm seventeen, so what does it matter? If I can just convince him, that I can –"

"Lupin! Moon!" Moody said sharply with a whack of his hand on his desk that made both girls sit up straight. Both of Moody's eyes found the necklace around Emma's neck for one brief moment, and he turned to the chalkboard with an, "Eyes up front and pay attention. Break's over."

Lunch more than made up for how the rest of her morning went. Emma was very much lost in thought when Fred and George sat down on either side of her.

"You two look as though I should be worried," Emma said, looking between the twins.

"Worried?" George asked. "Never. We have an idea."

"An idea?"

"Well, since Quidditch is off the table this year, we were thinking maybe we should play a birthday match," Fred said.

"I think we can manage to find enough people to play," George said.

"And wouldn't we need permission to use the Quidditch pitch?" Emma asked, not daring to let herself get excited over playing Quidditch.

"Already got permission," Cedric said, sitting down across from them. "Just got the permission form from Hooch. She said she'll even referee tonight…if you want to play, of course."

"Excuse me," Emma said, picking up a crisp and tossing it at Cedric as he started laughing at Emma's mock-outrage. "Of course, I want to bloody play Quidditch! When?"

"We can go out after dinner," Cedric said, motioning for Emma to keep eating her lunch. "Eat, Lupin – you need your energy! Have to make sure our team can beat those two."

"Oi! Who said she's not going to be on our team?" George said.

"I say she's not going to be on your team," Cedric grinned. "I'm not losing one of my favorite Chasers!"

"I played _one_ match," Emma laughed.

"And it was a damn good match!"

"We didn't even _win_!"

"Yes, but you scored a ton," Cedric pointed out. "Slytherin was playing dirty. We weren't going to win regardless. You held your own, and I'm already looking forward to having you on the team next year."

"Oh, please – you'll find someone much better than me."

"Don't doubt yourself," Cedric said. "I can see it already – Cedric Diggory and Emma Lupin, star Quidditch players set to sign contracts with…who should we play for?"

"Oh, absolutely the Holyhead Harpies. We'll stick a wig on you and everything."

"Ah, yes, perfect," Cedric said, brushing his hand through his hair and fanning it out as if he had long locks. "Cedrica Diggory and Emma Lupin for the Holyhead Harpies, then!"

"You'd be one ugly girl," George said slowly, drawing out his words. A long silence followed as Cedric stared at George with his jaw dropped. Emma broke the silence first with a snort that sounded more like an elephant trumpeting.

"You really would be an ugly girl, Cedric," Emma said, bursting into laughter. The rest of the group quickly followed suit.

Emma was practically bouncing in her seat in both Charms and Transfiguration. Her double Charms class felt like it wasn't ever going to end, and Transfiguration was even worse. It was hard for Emma to sit still in either class, and she rushed far too quickly in her quiz in Transfiguration. She wanted to be out on the Quidditch pitch, and she wanted to be out there _now_.

It appeared the others felt the same way as they rushed through their dinner. They had a small group that would be playing, and Emma was _excited_. Their match wouldn't involve the snitch, but it didn't matter. The moment everyone was done eating, they ran to the dorms to get changed. Emma and Cedric pointed at each other with excited shouts when they met back in the common room as they both put their Quidditch jerseys on.

"I'm telling you, Emma – we're going to be stars," Cedric said, flashing a brilliant smile at Emma. "You'll see."

Emma didn't have the heart to tell Cedric that she felt she wouldn't be the star of anything unless it was some sort of scandal. So far, Emma had something go wrong every year at Hogwarts and was subject to rumors more times than she could count. She had to suppress the urge to laugh as they walked, her arm around his waist, his around her shoulders, to the Quidditch pitch. Emma never would have guessed that Cedric's forced time with her the previous year would have created such an easy friendship. She had to have known Cedric in another lifetime.

Being back on the Quidditch pitch felt like an absolute dream. It felt nice to stretch out with their makeshift team and feel like they were preparing for an actual match. She stretched her arms across her body with a joyful laugh. After being confined to seemingly several different prisons all summer, Emma finally felt _free._ It was funny that something that gave her so much anxiety had become one of her favorite things in the world.

"I feel like we should be running laps right now," Emma said to Cedric. "But it's also my birthday, and I absolutely do not want to go on a run."

"What? You don't want to do some sprints?"

"Oh, Merlin, absolutely not," Emma said, sticking her tongue out at George across the pitch. He made a silly face at her, and Emma laughed some more. "Besides, it's my _birthday,_ and no one wants to do birthday sprints."

"Hey, bad news," Justin said as he ran over to Emma and Cedric, a broom in his hand. "Maxine and Herbert both got detention, Zach got himself hurt – again, and everyone else wants to get their homework done."

"What?" Emma said with a frown. She looked over at the group sitting in the grass, none of them wanting to go up into the stands. "George has got a full team over there, and we've only got three?"

"Make that four," Caspian shouted. He pulled himself up from the ground, excusing himself from his conversation with Ginny, Colin, and Elijah, and made his way over. "Now we just need a fifth. I'm sure someone would be willing to play. I'll be back – I just need to borrow a broom. I'm not going to walk back to the castle to get one."

Emma frowned at George's team across the way. They had Fred, Katie, Angelina, and Lee still stretching across the way. It was only meant to be a fun game, but she didn't want to play with a player down. She looked over at the small group closest to them. Ginny, Colin, Seamus, and Dean were making their way across the pitch to join the other Gryffindors. Out of the group closest to them, Emma didn't feel their prospects were good.

Persephone still hadn't arrived, leaving their choices as Luna, Neville, Wayne, Susan, Hannah, Roger, Ernie, Megan, Sally, or Leanne. Susan, Hannah, and Wayne had come to support Emma, but the others only showed up because they were forced to. Neville wouldn't be caught on a broom; Luna was pointing out things airily in the sky to Neville. Wayne could _possibly_ play, but he looked to be in a very animated discussion with Megan, Sally, Roger, and Leanne. Susan, Hannah, and Ernie were in some sort of heated debate. Their prospects were dismal.

"Oi, Emma, brace yourself," Caspian said with a nervous look on his face as he returned with a broom.

"Brace myself for _what_?" Emma asked sharply, pulling her attention away from the group to look up and find Madam Hooch, Persephone, and Merlin save her – Greyson heading their way.

"Oh, you've _got_ to be kidding me," Emma growled.

"What is it?" Justin asked, curious to know what had Emma so annoyed.

"It's nothing," Emma said sharply, crossing her arms and turning around to talk to Cedric about what they could do. He seemed to feel the same way as Emma did, his lips pursing ever so slightly as he looked over her shoulder at their possibilities.

"I mean, we _could_ play with four," Cedric said with a slight grimace. "We need two beaters and a keeper, though."

"Which leaves me as the only Chaser against Katie and Angelina," Emma groaned. "It's not even a real game, but even I know I wouldn't stand a chance by myself."

"Or I could be your fifth."

Emma's eyes grew wide, and she looked up at Greyson, who was suddenly standing next to her. She looked over her shoulder at Persephone with a pointed look. " _Or_ Persephone could play," Emma said through gritted teeth and making a silent plea for her to come over. When Persephone shrugged, Emma looked between the boys and then Greyson. "Would you even be _allowed_ to play with us? Snape said you're considered staff while you're here."

"Ah, but that's only while I'm teaching," Greyson said. "And as it's currently the weekend, I'm free to do whatever I please."

Cedric suddenly thrust his hand out towards Greyson. "Cedric Diggory," Cedric said. "Captain for Hufflepuff, and desperately in need of a fifth player."

"Greyson Fenmore," Greyson said, shaking Cedric's hand. "And willing fifth player…unless, of course, the birthday girl has too many objections."

"I think I remember you," Cedric said slowly. "You were Slytherin's captain, yeah? Chaser? I think we played a match in my third year."

"Ah, yeah, thought you seemed familiar. I played seventh year but stepped down as captain to focus on my NEWT's."

Emma bit back the urge to growl as Cedric got into a discussion with Greyson. How did no one know who he was? She whipped around to glare at Persephone, who was trying to avoid her by keeping her gaze focused on Luna. Emma was going to _kill_ Persephone for this one. What was she trying to do?

"Is everyone ready?" Madam Hooch asked, looking between the two teams.

Cedric cleared his throat to get Emma's attention. "Er, Emma? Do you think it's fine if Greyson plays? He's really good from what I remember. It would be better than you trying to practically kill yourself playing as our only Chaser. It doesn't look like anyone else wants to play."

"Oh, is he now?" Emma scoffed, giving Greyson a once over. Even though she had only seen him twice, it was bizarre for her to see him wearing something as casual as jeans and a t-shirt. Emma tried to ignore the scent of his cologne that seemed to capture every single fragrance that she found familiar: vanilla, sandalwood, lavender, warm cinnamon, and something very woodsy. Why did he have to smell so lovely and stand so close to her? She shook her head, looking over at Fred and George, who were waiting expectantly, eyes glittering with amusement. Even they knew they were going to win if they kept their team at only four players. Emma shot Persephone another look of annoyance, and she wasn't surprised that Persephone still refused to look at her.

"Emma?" Cedric prompted. "What do you say?"

Emma closed her eyes and took a deep breath and turned to look back at Cedric. Cedric was looking at her expectantly, and she sighed, turning her attention back to Greyson. "Thought you made it very clear about how you felt about _creatures_ like me?" Emma challenged, raising an eyebrow at Greyson. "Are you sure you feel comfortable being around me?"

"And you said you're not a werewolf," Greyson said, leaning a little closer towards Emma. "Or is that just what you tell everyone you meet?"

Greyson's eyes never strayed from hers, and Emma refused to look away. He was challenging her just as much as she was challenging him. How very Slytherin, indeed.

"Fine," Emma said slowly. "We'll see just how good you are, Fenmore. Or do I have the displeasure of having to call you _Mr._ Fenmore?"

"Fenmore is fine," Greyson said with a snort. "Although you can call me Greyson outside of the classroom. And… _you_ , Miss Lupin?"

"Lupin's fine," Emma huffed. "Don't you dare even think of calling me Emma." Emma turned back to Cedric with a scowl. "Fenmore's in, and we better win. I have no intention of giving Fred and George a reason to gloat."

If Emma thought she hated Greyson before, she absolutely loathed him after playing Quidditch with him. She thought it would be challenging to work with someone different, but Greyson was nearly flawless and kept up with her. Even though Emma had to slow herself down to keep up with the speed of his borrowed school broom, he didn't hog the Quaffle. Emma had to reluctantly admit to herself that she understood how Greyson became captain. If he knew she had a better chance of scoring, he was quick to pass the Quaffle off to her. She hated Greyson even more when they actually won, scoring 50 points more than George's team.

"Well, I guess the birthday girl should get one final gift," George said when they all landed. Emma laughed as George pulled her in close, but her laugh faded out as he kissed her on the cheek. George's very reserved affection was still odd to Emma, and she couldn't figure out exactly what was going on. Emma thought maybe he was tired the first night they were at Hogwarts, but a week later hadn't changed a thing. Emma only had her relationship with Persephone to go off, but she didn't think George's behavior was normal. He let go of her just as the others were approaching, and Persephone looked to be practically brimming with excitement.

"Birthday kisses!" Persephone suddenly blurted out.

"What?" Emma asked, her eyebrows shooting up into her hair.

"Birthday! Kisses!" Persephone said, clapping her hands. "We started the tradition last year, and we're keeping it going!" Persephone grabbed onto Emma's face and pressed a very wet and loud kiss to Emma's cheek. "You've got two now! You need thirteen more! Who's next?"

"Well, don't mind if I do!" Fred said, pulling Emma close, giving her a spin, and dipping her just to press a kiss to her cheek.

"Oh, Merlin help me," Emma grumbled as she was passed off to different people before they walked off. She tried to pretend it annoyed her, but Emma found it funny. Her face was bright red as Fred handed her to Katie and then was pulled over by Ginny and Colin, who kissed either side of her face at the same time. Luna, seemingly inspired by the entire situation, tipped Emma's face up to kiss her forehead and patted her on the head before departing with the crowd.

"Happy birthday, Emma," Neville said before giving Emma a swift peck on the cheek and running off.

"We'll see you back at the common room," Susan said after forcing Wayne, Hannah, and Caspian to join her in birthday kisses. Susan gave Justin a pointed look and waved at Cedric.

"I told you, Emma – stars," Cedric repeated, grabbing tightly to Emma so he could give her an even more obnoxious kiss on the cheek than Persephone. Emma laughed, shoving her hands into Cedric's chest to try and push him off of her.

"You're terrible, _Cedrica_ ," Emma teased.

"Remember – Holyhead Harpies with Cedrica Diggory and Emma Lupin. We'll be brilliant," he said, smoothing out Emma's windswept hair. He looked over at Justin and grinned. "Come on, Finch-Fletchley. Give Emma her birthday kiss so we can head back. We've got a party to set up."

"Ah, I thought I could help Emma clean things up since Hooch decided to have Greyson close up the pitch," Justin said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"We can handle it," Persephone said quickly, waving Justin off. "Get on with it."

Justin's face turned red, and he slowly approached Emma. He stared at her for a long moment with a nervous chuckle and leaned in to kiss Emma's cheek. Emma cast Justin a curious look when he pulled away, somehow even redder than before.

"Er, happy birthday," Justin said quickly before rushing over to Cedric.

"What just happened with that?" Emma asked Persephone when Justin and Cedric were far enough away. She glanced over at Greyson, wondering if he was listening as he gathered the borrowed supplies from the match.

"I think, and hear me out, Justin has just figured out that he likes you," Persephone said, waggling her eyebrows. "And I think he's trying to figure out how much of a chance he actually has with you being with George and all."

"George, who barely even acts like he's my boyfriend and refuses to tell me what's wrong? Would be a bit stupid of him."

"I think George has figured out that he's not the only one who fancies you," Persephone said slowly. "Did you not notice how many times he knocked the Bludger at everyone who _wasn't_ you?"

"It's George. He goes after everyone," Emma scoffed.

"Yes, well…" Persephone said with a shrug. "Also, bit shit that you only got fourteen kisses. You only need one more!"

"Just kiss me again, and then it's fifteen," Emma said in exasperation.

"Nah, mate. Has to be fifteen _people_. Doesn't count if I do it twice."

"Is that everything?" Greyson asked suddenly, popping up behind them.

Persephone took a look around and then nodded. "Yeah, that should be it," she said. Her eyes suddenly lit up as she looked at Emma, a grin crossing her face. "I'm just going to head back," Persephone said slowly. "You two should be able to handle putting everything away, right?"

"Yeah, it'll be fine," Greyson said, waving Persephone off. "Why don't you just head back? I'll be fine by myself," he added with a quick glance at Emma.

"I, er…" Emma trailed off quickly and felt herself blush as Persephone immediately explained Emma's sudden hesitation.

"Emma's a bit afraid of the dark, and neither of us have our wands," Persephone said quickly. "It would be better if she went with you."

Emma's face grew impossibly hotter. "Persephone," she hissed sharply.

"You're afraid of the dark?" Greyson asked. His brow furrowed slightly, but to Emma's surprise, he didn't look as though he was judging her for it.

"It's…it's a bit of a story," Emma said, rubbing the back of her neck.

Greyson's gaze was searching, and his lips pressed into a thin line. "All right," he said slowly. "Suppose it would be irresponsible to let you go off then. We're all afraid of something."

"Excellent," Persephone said brightly. "I'll see you tomorrow, then. Happy birthday, Em."

The last thing Emma wanted to do was be left alone with Greyson, but there she was. She cleared her throat and carefully gathered the borrowed brooms as he lifted up the heavy trunk with the Quidditch balls.

"You all right?" he asked, casting Emma a curious look. Emma couldn't stop herself from glaring at him.

"I'm fine," she said dryly. "Come on, let's just go."

Emma treated the chore of having to clean up everything as if it was something she had to do every day. She was aggravated with Persephone for putting her in a situation where she was stuck with Greyson by herself, but she had done worse. At least Greyson wasn't as terribly overbearing as his father, though he was infuriating in his own way. However, he seemed just as content to not say a word to her, and Emma was perfectly fine with that. She muttered a soft "Thanks" when he lit his wand for their walk back to the castle after putting everything away.

Even with Greyson's intrusion, she supposed her birthday wasn't _terrible_. She cast a sidelong glance at Greyson as they walked, trying to figure out how she actually felt about everything. It was as if fate had decided to play another cruel trick on her, but Persephone was not any better. Persephone had mentioned Trelawney's "prediction" while on the train, but there was no way that could possibly be true. She didn't believe in Divination at all, and she certainly wasn't about to put any stake in Trelawney's words.

"How old are you?" Emma suddenly blurted out, startling Greyson out of whatever thoughts he was having. His eyes grew wide as he looked at her, an eyebrow lifting.

"Uhm, I'm twenty," he said slowly. "Why?"

"Just wondering," Emma said, clearing her throat. "Was just trying to, erm, figure that out."

"Any particular reason why?"

Emma nearly laughed at the thoughts crossing her mind. What could she really say? "Oh, because your father is 34 years older than me and obsessed with me and wants to be the werewolf equivalent of my husband," or, "My best mate seems to have decided we're meant to be destined together off some complete shit Divination, and I'm trying to figure out what's going on." Or, better yet, her favorite possible response and the one thought she was struggling with severely, "I couldn't stop myself from staring at your arse, and even though I hate you and just met you really, I have to admit you're quite fit. And _then_ I couldn't figure out if your father has broken me so much that I find _him_ attractive just because unfortunately I think you are." Yes, that would go over very well if she said any of those things.

"You just seemed young for a Potion's Mastery," Emma finally decided to say. It was the safest option that she could come up with. "Thought you were a bit older, so it's a bit odd to me that we were in school together at all."

"Well, I've got another year or so of my Mastery program."

"So then you started as soon as you graduated?"

Greyson nodded. "I did. Started working at an apothecary out in Italy. Spent some time out in Germany and Bulgaria. Finally came back at the beginning of the summer and have bounced around."

"And yet you've somehow decided to come back to teaching?"

"I think I'd like to teach at one of the other schools. Castelobruxo, maybe Ilvermorny."

"Castelobruxo?"

"It's in Brazil in the Amazon rainforest. I hear it's stunning."

"So, you know Spanish then?" Emma asked. "Or at least know the language if you're considering Castelobruxo."

"I'm fluent enough," Greyson said conversationally. "My mum's side of the family is Spanish –" Greyson cut his sentence off so quickly that Emma grew worried. It took one good look at him to realize he felt he said too much, and it made Emma wonder just how much he knew about her. Something told her that Persephone had to have said something to Greyson, but she wasn't sure.

Even though it was dark, and she was relying on the light of his wand and the waxing moon, Emma dared to take a quick look at him. Knowing that Greyson was Spanish made a lot of sense. His features were darker than Fenrir's – dark hair, bronzed skin that she was sure he had year-round without the help of the sun. However, Greyson's eyes were entirely his father's, and it was startling. She would have to take a look at him during the day but try and not be a complete creep about it.

The rest of their walk was quiet, but as they grew closer to the castle, the energy shifted ever so slightly. Just before they stepped into the light radiating from the castle, Greyson extinguished his wand.

"Lupin, wait," Greyson said, grabbing onto Emma's wrist to stop her from moving into the light.

"What?" Emma snapped, whipping her head around to look at Greyson, who had gotten closer to her. Her lips parted with her surprise, and she stopped breathing, or at least Emma _thought_ she stopped breathing.

Emma _knew_ she officially stopped breathing as Greyson's lips pressed against her cheek, leaving behind a flaming warmth. The moment had somehow happened very quickly and very slowly, but her brain refused to catch up with her. One moment Greyson was staring at her, a flicker of something unexplained crossing his face, and then the next, his lips brushed against her cheek. Her mind went blank, and she felt herself grow dizzy from lack of oxygen.

"It would be stupid for you to not get fifteen when you were only one away," Greyson muttered, a pink tinge crossing his cheeks as he straightened up. He cleared his throat, letting go of Emma's wrist. "Best head down to your dorm. Curfew's in fifteen minutes."

Emma remained rooted to the spot for a long moment before turning on her heel to run back to the castle. She just barely turned her head to look over her shoulder at Greyson, unsure of what had just happened. Emma refused to stop running until she reached the basement hallway's relative safety, tucked in an alcove near the common room entrance. She lifted her fingers to her still burning cheek as if the coolness of her fingertips would soothe the odd fire that Greyson left behind. _What was that?_

She had to force air back into her lungs with a gasping breath. How was it all possible for just a kiss on her cheek to feel that way? Why did it have to be _Greyson_ who left a searing heat on her skin as if she had just been branded? Emma scrubbed her hands over her face trying to kickstart her brain back into gear, but it was like all rational thought had left her entirely. Once more, Emma found herself questioning everything she knew about herself.

There was absolutely no way she could _ever_ tell Remus this one, and now was when she needed him most. She stomped her foot like a child and let out a whine – Emma could never tell _anyone_. She could tell Remus and Sirius many things, but there was _no way_ Emma could begin to explain this. Emma would have to embellish _everything_ from the entire day so that Remus wouldn't be worried about her when she wrote to him. She forced herself to take several deep, steadying breaths, her hands pressed to her chest as if that would bring air back into her lungs, and she sighed. How could she be so stupid? Even though Emma couldn't talk to Remus about what had just happened, Emma knew exactly what he would say to her.

Nothing in the world couldn't be fixed with a little bit of chocolate, and the faintest of smiles crossed Emma's face. She could practically see him coming up to her, a bar of Honeyduke's dark chocolate in hand with his lopsided and fond smile for her. Remus would look down at the chocolate in his hand before holding it out for her to take. Emma couldn't stop herself from saying the words he would tell her, "Eat it. It'll help."

And that was the advice that she would take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Hi, yes, henlo.** What in the actual fuck did I just write? HEHEHEHEHEHEHEH. Hello teenage relationships and very confusing feelings. Also, why am I enjoying Emma being back at school more than I thought I would? I dreaded leaving summer, but noooowwww... heheheheheeheh. Do we need to start ship wars? Because I feel like I want to know who everyone's OTP is for this series is now. I have a fuuunnnnyyyyyy feeling I know it, but I'm curious! xD
> 
> To all of my late night readers - please go to sleep, good night and sweet dreams!
> 
> Come join the Gremlin pack and join the Discord if you'd like to help me out from time to time!
> 
> **come find me on:**   
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> 


	38. The Half-Werewolf in the Room

It seemed that fate had decided that Emma had more than enough fun. After luxuriating in the joy of sleeping in, Emma's good mood came crashing down. Posted up on the bulletin board in the common room was the date of the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. The last of her freedom had an expiration date and made reality seem that much more real.

Fenrir's letter weighed heavily in her mind. He specifically said to not make him wait to hear about the date, but she didn't want to tell him. She feigned excitement over the idea of going to the village when Wayne shouted it across the common room. How could she be excited over what she was going to do? She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and made her way back into the dorm, settling herself on her bed to grab her notebook. Emma knew that Remus wanted to know the date as well, and as she flipped to the next empty page, she found herself stalling.

What was Remus going to be able to tell her? There was nothing he could do to change it; she knew that he had absolutely no agency to change werewolf customs for her. Remus couldn't take back what she was, and he still continued to beat himself up over it. She knew that he didn't entirely accept her decision, but he promised to support her no matter what. What did she really want him to do for her?

Emma groaned, twirling her quill between her fingers as she tried to think of what to do. She found herself studying the feather, watching the way the light reflected off the plume with iridescent sparkles. Emma regretted still using the quill Fenrir purchased her. Looking at it made it seem like she was preparing herself to write that she was going on a suicide mission. She still wasn't entirely sure it was the right move, but she didn't know what to do. Even though she didn't think Remus could really do much for her, she pressed the nib of her quill to the page.

' _Daddy, the date of the first Hogsmeade trip was posted today_ ,' Emma wrote, taking care to try and keep her writing steady. She didn't want to admit it, but she was scared.

' _When is it?_ ' Remus wrote back slowly.

' _The fifteenth of next month. What do I do?_ '

' _What do you want to do?_ '

Emma felt that was a dumb question, and she set her notebook down so that she could reach into her nightstand to fish out a sugar quill. She popped it into her mouth with a grumble and grabbed her notebook again with a huff.

' _Run. Hide. The usual_ ,' Emma wrote back. ' _But I have a feeling I wouldn't be able to get very far since you refuse to let us go elsewhere._ '

' _Because we wouldn't get very far._ '

Emma huffed out a sigh, nibbling on the end of her sugar quill. She knew her father was right, but that didn't change anything. The desire to flee the country was so strong that it bristled underneath her skin. Every part of her was poised to run straight out of the castle and far away. A laugh escaped Emma's lips at the thought; it would just be the Ministry going after all of them. If she were to try and disappear, Emma had a feeling that Fenrir would try his hardest to find her. When she peered down at her notebook, she noticed that Remus had added more.

' _Have your thoughts changed since we were able to last speak?_ '

' _No,_ ' Emma responded back. ' _I still know what I want to do, but it's different now. It's real now._ ' What followed was a terribly lengthy response about how she still wanted to move forward, but the idea of it was terrifying. She took in a shaky breath, setting the quill down to press her palms into her eye sockets. It had been a very long time since Emma had felt her current level of fear.

She wanted to throw up, her stomach twisting into knots. This wasn't a decision she should be meant to make. It was incredibly unfair that her life had been reduced to either living off Sirius's money, taking terrible Muggle jobs, or joining Fenrir. All three options seemed like miserable prospects, and the idea of taking Fenrir down seemed better when it was just an idea. When Emma pulled her hands away, she looked down to find that Remus had replied.

' _You know that no matter what you do, I will always be here to support you. You know my thoughts and know my feelings on the situation, but I am not here to judge you. My job is to guide you as best as I can. All I want for you is to live a very long and happy life that you can look back on and feel accomplished. I am not going to sit and tell you that your decision is wrong as I have been in your shoes more times than I can count._

_'I don't want you to go into this worried about my feelings. My relationship with Fenrir is far different than yours, and you didn't grow up in fear of Fenrir as I did. I reluctantly have to concede that he has taken care of you where I couldn't. We both know that things could have turned out much differently. While Fenrir's decisions have been incredibly flawed, he has mostly kept you safe. I will never agree with him, and you know that, but that's from my experiences._

_'Remember – you are the most important person in my life. The last thing I want is to ever see you hurt. I can acknowledge that the current laws are terrifying and backward. I know that they worry you, but the pack isn't the only option. There will come a time in your life where things will change, and I love to believe that it will be you that changes everything. Just always remember, where you go, I go. I love you more than anything, Emma Hope. Do what you feel is right, and we'll figure things out as we go. We always have, and we always will._ '

Emma stared at Remus's words for a long while to let them sink in. It wasn't the first time he had told her that wherever she went, he would go, but she hated the idea of that. Emma knew that he wanted no parts of being around Fenrir, but she wasn't entirely sure that the pack wasn't her only option. Spending time with all of the other werewolves had been different – new and exhilarating in its own way. It was the first time Emma felt that she genuinely belonged somewhere, which was an odd revelation to make.

And the children. The sweet children had managed to worm their way into her heart in a matter of seconds: Ducky and Killian's little girl, Belinda, and the other children. How could she leave them? Even if there was no possibility of things changing in the wizarding community, she still wanted to make sure that things would be better for the children in the packs. Even if she were to fail and not take Fenrir down… Emma couldn't think about it just yet. She couldn't scare herself out of something she hadn't done yet.

With a long exhale, she reached into her nightstand to pull out a blank piece of parchment. Against her better judgment, she picked up her quill and started to write. She didn't need Fenrir to find out the date of the Hogsmeade from someone else. Emma didn't want to know what would happen if he did.

Saturday was spent as lazily as possible and almost in the entirety of the comfort of the common room. It was a lovely day, and most went outside to do their work, but she didn't want to go too far. The only trips she took were to the owlery to mail off her letter to Fenrir and the Great Hall for meals. Justin stayed with her all day as they worked on their homework together, trying to make jokes to break through her thoughts. As the night rolled in and people returned to the common room, Cedric asked if Emma wanted to have her first guitar lesson. It was just the distraction that she needed, and though she was terrible at it, Cedric was encouraging.

"You'll pick it up quickly," Cedric laughed as Emma plucked a very off-tune chord. "It doesn't help that the guitar is practically the size of you."

The next day brought along the unfortunate reminder of what the next week would be as she looked at herself in the mirror. Emma let out an annoyed groan as she noticed the starts of dark circles that looked like light bruising around her eyes. How had so much time passed since the last full moon already? She felt like everything had moved at a warp speed, and she had nothing to show for it. Still, she gathered her things after breakfast to head down to the dungeons. She had her first dose of Wolfsbane to make for the week.

Emma felt stupid stepping into the Potion's classroom on a Sunday. She felt even more ridiculous when it wasn't just Snape that looked at her but Greyson. Was Greyson going to earn himself the nickname of Dungeon Bat?

"To what do I owe this displeasure, Lupin?" Snape drawled.

Emma was slightly taken aback, lips parting with her surprise. "Er…the, uhm," Emma cleared her throat, entirely thrown off by Greyson being present. "The full moon is, er…next week, sir. I need my first dose, and I didn't believe it entirely appropriate to make it in the dorms."

Snape stared hard at her, his dark eyes refusing to leave hers, but Emma looked away quickly, squirming under his gaze. "And I assume that you were smart enough to keep the…donations…you received from your _mate_?"

Emma's eyes narrowed as she lifted her gaze back up to Snape. "I was smart enough to keep the _donations_ , yes," Emma growled out through gritted teeth. Greyson's eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of "mate" and Emma wanted to kill Snape for even mentioning it at all.

"Well, then I suppose you can use those, then," Snape said dismissively. "Don't you dare consider using any of my supplies."

Greyson looked between Emma and Snape with confusion. Emma could tell he was curious, but he wasn't about to ask questions with her right there. She knew Greyson's inquisitive expression well from other Slytherins. Emma had grown very accustomed to it lately when she dodged the pure-blood's questions, wanting to get to know who Emma Black was.

"And if I don't have enough to complete the potion, sir?" Emma questioned.

"Well, you'll just have to be careful then, won't you?"

Emma nodded, plastering a tight smile on her face. "And what about the rest of the week?"

"Sir."

Emma sucked in a deep breath, rubbing her forehead in aggravation. "And what about the rest of the week, _sir_?"

"You will be provided fresh ingredients daily," Snape said after a long pause. "I trust that I will not need to elaborate on who they will come from."

"No, sir," Emma said quietly.

"Per my last conversation with _your mate_ , it appears as though instructions will be included for you to follow. You are expected here before breakfast tomorrow to begin," Snape said, rising from his desk. "Mr. Fenmore, if you would so kindly supervise Miss Lupin – I must speak with Professor Dumbledore."

Emma sighed, setting down her potion's kit and rubbing her temples when Snape left the room. This was far worse than she expected, and she predicted it would be a very long week. She could feel Greyson's questioning look boring into the back of her skull, but she tried to ignore it as she pulled ingredients out.

As Emma pulled out what she had left of her aconite, she frowned. She would have to ask Remus how the plants were growing and see if he could send her some clippings. If Snape was serious about her not using any ingredients, she wanted to keep some extra on hand. Fresh was always better, but she could cut it and have it pre-measured just in case.

"You don't have to watch me, you know," Emma said into the silence, looking at what she had laid out in front of her. It would be _just_ enough to make a decent enough dose of Wolfsbane for herself. As long as she was careful, then it would be fine. With a sigh, Emma thought perhaps she could ask Fenrir who his supplier was, or at least ask for him to send more if he could. By telling him the date of the first Hogsmeade trip, she hoped it would be a show of good faith that she was following through with things.

"I do, actually," Greyson replied.

Emma looked over her shoulder at Greyson with a frown and let out a derisive breath as his eyes swept over to a particular table. Her eyes flicked over to where Greyson's attention was momentarily drawn, and a dark chuckle left Emma's lips.

"He told you, didn't he?" Emma asked, her tone sharp. She shook her head when Greyson gave a slight nod. "I can't fucking believe him."

Greyson's eyes grew wide in surprise at Emma's tone of voice. "I…your language," he said, clearing his throat.

"Oh, get over it," Emma huffed. "Nobody else listens to me or cares about what I say. It's not like it matters if I get any privacy anyway, so why care about my _language_?"

"I asked him not to tell me," Greyson said.

"And yet you still know," Emma said, turning around to face Greyson fully. She had to remind herself to breathe when she met his eyes – that was never not going to be weird to her. "I can see you want to ask me questions about it. Might as bloody well. I'm sure that means you regret Friday, now."

"I wanted to apologize for that, actually," Greyson said, shifting nervously. "I never should have –"

"No one's going to know," Emma huffed out. She searched Greyson's face for a moment before turning back around to work on cutting and measuring ingredients. "Even if I were to tell someone, they wouldn't believe me anyway. I'm afraid I've lost a fair bit of credibility."

"Why?"

"For the very same reason you judged me in Flourish and Blotts," Emma said over her shoulder. "I'm just the weird half-werewolf girl…" Emma trailed off for a moment to look back at Greyson, her eyes narrowing slightly. "But I'm not the only half-werewolf in this room."

Greyson immediately tensed up, his eyes darkening. It took Emma by surprise, and she felt herself flinch back almost instinctively. _That_ was a surprising look to see on someone who wasn't Fenrir, but it was there all the same. Greyson seemed to catch himself quickly as he quickly looked away, looking anywhere but at her, but his brows were still knit together.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Greyson said tightly.

"Please, you can leave," she said, gesturing towards the door. "I already said you don't have to watch me. Despite what good ol' Snip Snop has told you, I'm not about to go and off myself again. I certainly wouldn't want to have to inconvenience you so terribly that _you_ would be the one to find me." Emma began to snicker as she continued to prepare her ingredients. "Oh, that would be absolutely poetic," she muttered under her breath.

"Well, unfortunately, _supervising you_ has become part of my job description," Greyson said sharply.

"Oh, lucky me."

"Yes," Greyson drawled. "Lucky you. Even luckier for me, really since I get to deal with a little brat."

"You're the one who insisted on going for a Potion's Mastery for _teaching_ ," Emma said with a shrug. "Should have realized that meant you would have to work with students."

"I didn't think it would mean having to work with _you_."

"And I can say the same, Fenmore," Emma laughed. "I don't need you judging me since you're ah…you're the same as I am, just without all the fun bits, clearly."

Greyson looked livid, and Emma quickly turned her attention to what she was doing. She couldn't look at him, and she could practically hear the snarl in Greyson's voice when he spoke next, "You say that you're not a werewolf and yet –"

"And I don't need you judging me," Emma said sharply, cutting Greyson off. "I didn't ask for this - I told you that back in Flourish and Blotts. I know you didn't either."

"And yet –"

"Shut. Up," Emma growled, whipping around to glare at Greyson. "You should be bloody thanking me right now."

"Thanking you for what?"

"Keeping Fenrir so bloody distracted that he doesn't even know you exist!" Emma didn't mean to let it come out so sharply, and she felt guilty at the look that crossed Greyson's face.

"I'm sorry," Emma said quietly. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Yes, you did," Greyson snapped. "You _knew_?"

"Of course, I bloody knew," Emma said dismissively. She made a vague gesture in his direction and deflated. It was obviously a sore subject for Greyson if his expression was of any indication. "You look a lot like him. Bit shorter, but you look like your father all the same. Quite honestly, it's a bit difficult to look at you because you look so much like him."

"Well," Greyson said sharply, his face twisting with his sneer as he glared at Emma. "I'll make things easier for you, then. I have better things to be doing."

She jumped as Greyson stormed over to the door, threw it open with a harsh slam, and walked out. The door swung closed with a near echoing thud in the silent room, and Emma's mouth fell open. She was startled at Greyson's outburst, and she swallowed hard as she tried to process what had just happened. Emma didn't mean for _that_ conversation to go that way, or at all, but she couldn't take it back now.

Emma didn't want to feel guilty, but she did. Greyson being half-werewolf didn't even cross her mind until just moments prior. Was his anger because he _knew_ that – or perhaps he didn't realize? Or was it because he didn't accept it? Either way, Emma felt like an idiot.

"Good bloody going, Lupin," Emma muttered to herself as she worked. "You meet the one bloody person in the world who's at all like you, and you're a proper cunt about it."

In Emma's defense, she didn't like Greyson because he was Fenrir's son, but it was unfair for her to judge him on that. It wasn't as if that was something he could control. Emma stared at her half-cut ingredients with a groan. If Greyson was going to have to supervise her, it would be an even longer week than she thought.

Much like dealing with Fenrir at six in the morning, dealing with Greyson so early the next day was aggravating. He hadn't gotten over their terse conversation if his glares at her were of any indication. The moment she stepped foot into the Potion's classroom, only half-awake, he shoved an envelope at her. She took it very slowly from Greyson, finding a table further away, pulled out the letter, and read it with a groan.

Apparently, her work on the Wolfsbane Potion was well-received, and Fenrir expected her to brew for him to sell each month. How he would be receiving said potions, Emma had no idea, but she wouldn't question it. Emma's looked at the bottles sitting next to the fresh ingredients at the front of the room with disgust. At least it meant Remus would still be getting a high-quality potion, and that was all she cared about.

Emma didn't think Greyson was going to talk to her at all. She didn't particular enjoy him glaring at her, silently seething from several tables away, but she had gone through far worse. Emma was in the middle of stirring the potion when Greyson finally spoke up.

"The ingredients were from _him_ , weren't they?" Greyson asked, his voice holding the hints of a growl.

"Unfortunately," Emma replied, glancing up at Greyson.

"When Snape refers to your mate –"

"I'm not," Emma said, quickly cutting Greyson off. "It's…it's complicated."

Greyson looked as though he wanted to say something else on the topic, but he changed the conversation entirely.

"Why do you have to take the Wolfsbane Potion?" he asked.

"Ah, so Snip Snop told you that as well?" Emma asked bitterly. Greyson gave another small nod, and Emma sighed. "It's from when I tried to off myself. Part of that requires another story, but the easiest way to sum things up is to go with a Muggle explanation. I essentially received a very infected blood transfusion with my father's blood to keep me alive."

"And that made you half-werewolf?"

"Yes. Which means I get all the fun except transforming or the super senses. I do get to heal pretty fast, so that's fun. I could cut myself with this damned knife. In thirty minutes, it would look like it healed all week," Emma said, a forced smile crossing her face at Greyson's sudden nervous expression. "I'm essentially a walking vessel for lycanthropy, just without the actual activation. There's not a lot of research into what causes it exactly, just that it's a potential side-effect to what they had to do to keep me alive," Emma added in a more serious tone. "Now, if I were to receive a bite from a werewolf –"

"You were bitten twice."

"But he wasn't transformed," Emma said, shaking her head. "That's what the Prophet never reported and why everyone seems to hate me. Fenrir wasn't a wolf at the time, so the venom that would be introduced through his saliva wasn't present. Other than presenting typical werewolf symptoms, I'm not dangerous." She stopped stirring the potion, taking a quick look at the clock. She had a brief five-minute break before she had to continue onto the next steps. "I know there was a lot written in the Prophet about my Dad and me over the summer. None of it was true."

"So, he didn't kidnap you?"

"No, never. Dad and I found that one of the funnier articles," Emma snorted. "My dad went through every possible step to ensure he could adopt me legally, or as legally as he could, rather. We didn't know that I was actually his until last year. It would have saved a lot of heartbreak if we knew…"

"How wouldn't he know that? If you were his child –"

"Have you seen my records?"

Greyson hesitated for a moment before nodding. "You're really a Black, then?" he asked.

"Yes," Emma said quietly. She let out a deep breath – she wasn't meant to be telling anyone that piece of information, but it didn't seem fair. It was already in her school records; there was no getting around it. "But I prefer Lupin. I have enough targets on my back without being a Black, as well." Greyson looked at Emma with confusion, one of his eyebrows arching in his curiosity.

"I know your secret; you might as well know mine," she added, with a sympathetic look. "I'm…I'm sorry about that, by the way. I really didn't mean for it to come out the way that it did." Greyson didn't respond at all to Emma, only stared at her until she finally looked away. She cleared her throat and continued. "Sirius had asked my mother to be surrogate for him and my Dad. She wound up getting pregnant with her boyfriend at the time, and she was still in school. My mum offered to still have me provided that Sirius still wanted me, and obviously, I'm here now. My Dad didn't know because the war was going on, and you know, the whole werewolf thing didn't really help."

"What do you mean the whole werewolf thing didn't help? If he's supposedly not dangerous –"

"There were rumors of a spy for Voldemort being close to all of them. Considering the nature of my father's work during the war…"

"What work was he doing?"

It was Emma's turn to hesitate, and she took a look at the clock. It felt like time was moving terribly slow, and she just barely met Greyson's gaze.

"My father was meant to infiltrate Fenrir's pack to turn people to Dumbledore's side in the war," Emma said. Greyson's face flashed with thinly veiled anger.

"So, it's because of _your father_ you're now working with…with Greyback?" he spat, gesturing to the bottles on the table. "You _both_ are?"

"Ah, and that's where my story gets complicated. My Dad wants nothing to do with him – he's not a part of this. And in case you're wondering, I'm doing this because I'm not stupid enough to go against him," Emma replied bitterly. "Like I said, it's complicated, and if all you're going to do is be cross with me, then it's not worth explaining. Now, if you don't mind, I don't think Fenrir would be too pleased with me if I ruined these. Sales to make and other werewolves to rip off, you know."

There was silence for a long while until Emma started to bottle up the potions.

"Do you even know what you're doing?" Greyson questioned as Emma ladled the potion into one of the bottles.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she snapped.

"You're fifteen," he said slowly. "You shouldn't know how to make that potion at all. I didn't even see you look at a recipe."

"Well, good news for everyone involved – I've been making the potion for nearly a year now and can practically make it in my sleep," Emma said with a derisive breath. "I spent a lot of time learning the ins and outs of the potion. I tested out the end results of my work on myself before ever giving it to my father." She sighed, looking at the bottles before casting Greyson a nervous look. "You didn't touch any of the bottles, did you?"

"No, why?" Greyson questioned.

"Something tells me that you don't want Fenrir to know you exist," she replied, looking up briefly from the bottle she was filling. Emma wasn't sure if it was weeks with Fenrir that made Greyson easy to read or if his eyes were just that expressive. His eyes flashed with uncertainty, and Emma gave a small nod in understanding. "Make sure Snape knows to make sure everything is cleaned just in case. If Fenrir catches his scent when he's nowhere near me, he'll be skeptical."

"Are you finished, Lupin?" Snape asked as he walked back into the room a few moments later.

Emma inclined her head towards the bottles in front of her as she filled a goblet for herself. "One dose for Dad and the rest just as requested," Emma said, casting Greyson a quick glance. He looked even less amused than before, his gaze sharp as his face twisted with a sneer. "And then the remainder for me."

She started to clean everything up silently, ignoring the goblet next to her for a few minutes. Emma lifted the goblet in her hand, trying to ignore the looks both Snape and Greyson were giving her.

"I think I'll just take this up with me so I can eat something first," Emma muttered.

"Absolutely not, Lupin," Snape drawled. "None of my belongings will be leaving this room."

"Professor Snape, I haven't had the potion without eating something beforehand," Emma said pointedly. "I don't know if it'll make me sick."

"You'll recover," Snape drawled. "Best drink it now, Lupin."

Emma wasn't sure why she was at all surprised by Snape's behavior. She stared at the still-smoking goblet in her hand and grimaced. Her eyes darted between Snape and Greyson, and she shook her head, tipping the potion back into her mouth, face twisting with disgust. She slammed the goblet down on the table, shooting Snape a scathing look. If she got sick, it was going to be Snape's fault.

Luckily taking the Wolfsbane Potion so early didn't bother Emma as much as she thought it would. She felt ill like she would taking any other medication without food, but it was manageable. More than half of her Monday was taken up by her electives. She only needed to worry about Herbology and Charms. It was one of her easy days, so she wouldn't mind.

The next day made Emma realize that it wouldn't be a typical full moon week for her. Her head was starting to hurt far earlier than usual. She wasn't sure if she wanted to blame Snape or the stress of being at Hogwarts for her pounding head. Still, she pulled herself up and out of bed; she had another morning of brewing ahead of her.

Greyson seemed content to ignore her again, but Emma was not willing to overlook his insistent staring. Or at least it seemed that he was staring at her. Every time she would look up from what she was doing, Greyson was looking at her, and it was mildly off-putting.

"Stop looking at me!" Emma practically shrieked, grateful for Snape's lack of presence in the room.

"And where am I supposed to bloody look?" Greyson huffed, crossing his arms. "I'm supposed to be supervising you!"

Emma began to splutter with her aggravation. "I don't bloody know! Just don't look at _me_!"

"Oh, would looking at your shoes be fine, then, Princess?"

"Don't call me Princess!"

"Well, you're acting like a bloody spoiled Princess because I dared to look in your direction, so excuse me."

"You're a prick," Emma said through grit teeth as she glared at Greyson. "Did you know that?"

"And you're doing that wrong."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

Emma glowered at Greyson for a moment before looking down at what she was doing. She swore under her breath and readjusted how she was stirring, her lips twisting up into a sneer as she looked over at Greyson.

"If you stopped bloody staring at me, I wouldn't have done that!" Emma growled.

"Well, _excuse me_ , then," Greyson scoffed. "Princess," he added under his breath.

"I heard that!" Emma shouted.

"You said you weren't a werewolf, and you heard me say that?"

"Sound echoes in the dungeons, you idiot. Don't need to be a werewolf to hear that one."

Emma was delighted when Greyson clamped his mouth shut, crossing his arms over his chest. She was quite happy to work in silence, and the rest of her morning went just the same as it did the day before.

That night, people were starting to notice that Emma wasn't acting as she usually did. She grew exhausted very early in the night, taking over one of the sofas in the common room and stretching out. She wanted to go to sleep half-way through dinner and relied heavily on George to get down to the common room. When he only kissed her cheek as they parted, Emma didn't even have the energy to question it.

Emma found her thoughts on Greyson far more than she ever wanted. She found him just as confusing as she found Fenrir – very hot and cold, never settling on one particular mood. It annoyed her to no end. Every time she would consider trying to be nice to him, he would say something that infuriated her. For someone who had absolutely nothing to do with Fenrir, he was so aggravatingly like his father that it was disturbing.

"Hey," she heard Justin say, pulling her out of her thoughts. Emma turned her head to give Justin a small smile.

"Hi," she said with a yawn.

"How are you feeling?" Justin asked, pressing his hand to her forehead. "Bloody hell, you are _warm_."

"Happens every time the full moon comes around," Emma said, turning on her side. "It's rubbish. I'll be fine – this is normal."

"Are you sure?"

"Bit of a headache, but it's all right."

"Sit up a minute," Justin said, slipping into the spot where Emma's head was. He gently pulled her head back down to his lap. "Right – direct me," he said.

"You don't have to do this," Emma laughed.

"Yes, I do," Justin said, picking a spot at random on Emma's head to massage. "Is this fine?"

"It's perfect," Emma said, closing her eyes.

Being an absolute saint, Justin stayed with her all night on the couch even after she fell asleep. She woke up very early in the morning, sitting up groggily. Someone had placed a blanket on her, and Justin's blanket was only covering his upper body. Emma gave Justin a gentle shake.

"Hey," she said, rubbing her eyes with her other hand. Justin cracked open his eyes with a yawn, and Emma grinned at him. "You could have gotten me up."

"You needed to sleep," Justin said, stretching his arms high over his head. "What time is it?"

Emma peered down at her watch. "5:30," she said, looking around the empty common room. "You've got some more time to sleep. I need to take a shower and head off to the dungeon to go make my potion."

"Why doesn't Snape do it?" Justin asked, pulling his legs onto the sofa when Emma stood.

"Would _you_ want Snape making a delicate potion for you?"

"When you put it that way – absolutely not. I can walk you down to the dungeons if you'd like."

"It's all right," Emma smiled. "Sleep a bit longer. At least you can stretch out now."

Emma should have known better and realized Justin would walk her down to the dungeons regardless of what she said. It was nice to not have to make the walk by herself so early in the morning. The walk from the Hufflepuff dorms down to the Potion's classroom wasn't terribly long, but it was often cold and lonely. The warmth of the kitchens would rapidly descend into cool dampness from the lake surrounding the area.

Greyson still didn't appear to be in a good mood when she stepped into the classroom, and his gaze narrowed slightly when he saw Justin. Emma gave Greyson an annoyed look over Justin's shoulder as he hugged her, thankful that Justin was facing the door.

"See you at breakfast," Justin said happily, ruffling Emma's hair affectionately. Emma smiled at Justin as he walked out of the room and turned her attention back to Greyson.

"What is _your_ problem?" Emma snapped, her hands on her hips.

"Nothing," Greyson said, with a slight shrug. "Wasn't expecting your little boyfriend to be walking you down this morning."

"He's _not_ my boyfriend!"

"Well," Greyson said with a huffed out laugh, "should probably tell him that, then."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"My God, you don't even see it?"

"See _what_?"

Greyson's chuckle was one of amazement, and he shook his head as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Wow," he said slowly, sitting back in his chair to cross his arms in front of himself. "I had no idea you were so oblivious. I've had quite a few people tell me how smart you are, but you don't even notice _that_?"

"Oblivious to _what_?"

"Finch-Fletchley is clearly into you," Greyson snorted. "He's not the only one."

"You are beyond annoying. You don't know anything," Emma said, setting about the room to collect her things to start working. "I'm with George, anyway."

"And didn't you tell Persephone that he doesn't even act like your boyfriend?"

"He's still my boyfriend," Emma muttered. Greyson shrugged, looking more and more amused by the minute. She scoffed, shooting Greyson another glare, her lips curling. Greyson was _wrong_ ; there was no way Justin liked her as more than a friend. She doubted that anyone would be interested in her after everything, and Greyson's claim that others were annoyed her even more. "Besides, what does it matter to you anyway? Why were you listening to our conversation in the first place? Are you _jealous_?" she asked sharply.

The amused grin on Greyson's face quickly disappeared, and though his eyes narrowed at Emma, he didn't look annoyed. Greyson looked oddly resigned, and Emma didn't understand that look at all. He cleared his throat, turning his attention to the book and parchment in front of him.

"You should start working on the potion," he said, not looking up at Emma. "The sooner you get it done, the faster you can go get breakfast. I'll make sure that Severus lets you take the potion with you today. I did some research, and you really should be eating something before taking the Wolfsbane Potion."

Emma searched Greyson's face for a long moment, trying to figure out his sudden dismissal. Her comment about him being jealous had just been her being annoyed with him for making fun of her. Did she touch an unexpected nerve? The more Emma thought about it, the more annoyed she got – what did Greyson know anyway? He didn't know her, didn't know the truth of her life outside of what she told him. The only things Greyson had to go off of were the things other people told him. It wasn't like he bothered to ask her more about herself, and she certainly wasn't going to ask him questions either. Emma pushed the thought to the side with an aggravated hum and did what she was meant to do. The potion was more important anyway.

In typical Lupin fashion, Emma found herself fixating on what happened that morning while trying to eat her breakfast. Greyson didn't talk to her at all the rest of the time she worked on the Wolfsbane Potion. She would cast him curious glances, trying to take quick moments to study him, but he never looked her way. It seemed like such odd behavior when he always seemed to watch everything she did. At least with him not looking at her, she could _really_ look at him.

The more Emma looked at Greyson, the more she could separate his looks from Fenrir, but they were there. His hair was darker than Fenrir's, more black than dark brown. If she looked at the top half of his face, he was purely Fenrir, but the rest of his face wasn't. His lips were much fuller, his facial hair kept much neater – Emma had to keep reminding herself to _stop staring._ He was shorter than Fenrir, standing somewhere between Sirius and Remus's height, and he was thinner. Greyson was muscular, but not disturbingly so like Fenrir, but it was evident he took care of himself. At least Greyson knew how to dress in clothes that fit…Once more, Emma had to force herself to stop staring at him. Apparently, she wasn't any better than Greyson with staring.

Typically, Emma's mood would vastly improve after eating, but an odd fluttery feeling seemed to sit in Emma's stomach. Emma's first thought was to blame the upcoming full moon, but for the most part she was faring much better than usual. Other than the headache and the slightest start of a fever, and her exhaustion, she felt fine. She had been delighted that her symptoms finally matched the ones Remus had, but the feeling in her stomach was _weird_. It was unexplainable, and the more Emma tried to figure it out, the more confused she became.

Professor McGonagall had asked her no less than five times if she was well during Transfiguration and asked if she had to go to the hospital wing. Each time, Emma insisted that she was fine, but she was slowly drawing attention from the others. Harry's forehead wrinkled with his concern as he stared at her from across the room, and Justin offered several times to walk with her. Emma could see McGonagall's concern written clearly on her face, and Emma forced herself to perk up. Even though she wasn't a full werewolf, Emma was sure that McGonagall remembered how her father must have been in class. She didn't need McGonagall going to Remus, especially not now.

The truth was that she didn't tell Remus that Greyson was in the castle. She had every opportunity to tell him, but for some reason, she couldn't do it. Emma wasn't sure exactly why she didn't tell him, but something told her to not say a word. It was almost like she was compelled to keep his secret because he was the only half-werewolf she had come across. Even if she couldn't stand Greyson and hated his father even more, he was still like her. It made her feel a little less lonely though he obviously wasn't affected the way she was.

Greyson seemed a little more himself when she stepped into Potions after Transfiguration. However, he still seemed to try and ignore her very existence. The few times she would bother to raise her hand to answer a question, he seemed to look past her as if she wasn't there. Eventually, she gave up and spent her time lost in thought. They were still revising undetectable poisons, and she only lifted her quill to add something new to her notes if it came up.

Emma found that casual Greyson's personality was a fierce dichotomy from his teaching personality. She had grown used to seeing him in jeans and either a long-sleeve shirt or t-shirt while working on the Wolfsbane Potion. He was sharper outside of teaching, his quips quick and cutting, and often sarcastic if he bothered to talk to her at all. It was almost jarring for her to see him in something similar to what Remus wore while teaching – trousers, a button-up shirt and tie, and robe. He embraced Muggle-wear more than wizarding fashion, which was refreshing to see.

What disturbed her most about Greyson was his teaching personality matched her father's. He seemed genuinely interested in making sure the class understood things. If someone had a question, he was quick to answer, and he appeared to have an encyclopedic knowledge of everything potions. It felt like she was sitting in her father's class, but with potions instead.

"I wonder when it would happen to you," Mandy whispered to Emma, leaning in close to her from across the table.

"Wondered when _what_ would happen?" Emma whispered back out of the corner of her mouth. She refused to take her eyes off Greyson out of fear he would turn back around from what he was writing on the chalkboard and call them out for talking.

"I always wondered if we would get a professor who would finally catch your attention," Mandy replied with a quiet giggle. "About time considering you couldn't stand Lockhart, and we all got to enjoy looking at your dad until, well…you know."

"Oh, yes, because him being a werewolf changes things, right?" Emma said dryly.

"You know that's not what I mean," Mandy said. She looked over at Greyson, who was still facing the chalkboard, her gaze drifting to his arse. "He's fit, isn't he? Not that much older than us, I hear."

Emma's eyebrows raised, and her eyes grew wide as she looked at Mandy. "You've got to be kidding," she said.

"What?" Mandy hissed. "Come on, you can't tell me that he's not good looking. I mean, look at his arse. When was the last time you looked at a bum like _that_?"

Mandy wasn't entirely wrong by that statement. Even Emma could appreciate that Greyson was good looking, but it still made her feel weird – he was _Fenrir's son_.

However, Emma wasn't entirely immune to his good looks; she was a teenage girl, after all. A slightly older, good-looking young male in the castle that wasn't actually staff meant he was the very definition of temptation. If she could look past who his father was, she could find herself getting lost in the idea of Greyson. But Emma could easily write her attraction towards Greyson off as full moon hormones. It wasn't the first time she had been attracted to someone she usually wouldn't be, and it certainly wouldn't be the last time.

It was unfortunate that Greyson turned around just as Emma allowed her gaze to drift, and she felt her face heat up at his questioning look. Mandy immediately had to stuff her fist into her mouth to keep from giggling too loudly. Emma swore she wanted to die right on the spot. She wanted a random bolt of lightning to spontaneously appear in the classroom and hit her, or she wanted to get bitten by a venomous spider. Emma didn't care how her death came – anything would be better than her being caught staring at Greyson's bum.

"Care you share what you were just staring at with the rest of the class, Miss Lupin?" Greyson asked, one corner of his lips lifting into a smile.

"I wasn't looking at anything," Emma said quickly, shaking her head.

"Are you sure?" Greyson questioned. "You seemed quite…interested."

Mandy only began to giggle more and ducked her head to try and hide her face. Emma was _humiliated,_ and she continued to shake her head, her face growing even hotter with her embarrassment. Greyson was beyond annoying.

"I already told you, I wasn't looking at anything," Emma said, unable to meet Greyson's eyes. This was somehow worse than when Remus figured out why she was nearly late to his class multiple times. When Greyson didn't say anything, Emma reluctantly met his gaze, and she felt her face heat up even further. The odd feeling in her stomach was suddenly fluttery, and Emma felt like a complete and utter idiot. She knew exactly what the feeling in her stomach was.

The feeling in Emma's stomach was butterflies. Greyson bloody Fenmore gave her _butterflies,_ and somehow she didn't think it was because of the full moon at all. It was the same feeling she initially had with George and the same one she had with every other one of her crushes. But that's all it was, right? It had to be just a crush, nothing more, but it didn't change the fact that her attraction towards Greyson existed.

Emma suddenly had an even bigger problem than everything else combined. This was worse than having to deal with Fenrir, far worse than being labeled a werewolf and a social outcast. This was even worse than every other terrible thing she had ever done. This couldn't be happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone else realize earlier that Greyson's half-werewolf too, orrrrrr? Ya know. Stick two half-werewolves in a room, you get one whole werewolf...
> 
> That sounded a lot funnier in my head, but you know. It's fine.
> 
> Anyway, to all of my late-night readers, please go to sleep! Have very sweet dreams!
> 
> **come find me on:**  
> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/mymoonyandstars)  
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> 
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> 


	39. The Packmate Dilemma

Emma was relieved that Greyson dropped the topic of what she was looking at during Potions. If he continued to tease her, she would have just offed herself right then and there. With how frequently Moody brought up the killing curse during class, it seemed like the perfect solution. Just one quick, " _Avada kedavra!_ " and she wouldn't have to suffer through her embarrassment any longer. Emma knew that Greyson was pure Slytherin when he knew _precisely_ at what point to stop torturing her. A few of her classmates cast her curious looks, but he returned to teaching just before too much attention was drawn her way. She – hated – him.

However, she didn't hate him enough to keep herself from casting odd glances at him sitting at the staff table at lunch.

Did she like Greyson more than she thought? It seemed like such a stupid thought when she didn't actually _know_ him. She had spent a decent amount of time with him, of course, but that didn't mean anything. They never discussed anything. Outside of what Persephone told her and the very few snippets he accidentally revealed, Greyson was a mystery.

It was one thing to be physically attracted to him – she couldn't deny that and struggled fiercely with that thought. She wasn't sure that she couldn't blame it on being stuck with Fenrir all summer or if she genuinely liked Greyson. For the first time ever, Emma was genuinely looking forward to her appointment with Dr. Wheeler because she had _a lot_ to talk about. Emma wasn't sure that she could trust her own feelings anymore, and she didn't dare go to Remus for this one.

 _But what about Greyson bringing up Justin and George_? Emma found herself questioning as she looked up at Greyson again. Even though he was young, he looked in his element sitting up at the staff table. Greyson was laughing at something that Professor Sprout had said to him, his face lighting up. His smile completely transformed his face, and Emma found herself tilting her head ever-so-slightly as she watched him for a moment.

Emma cast a curious look over at George, frowning slightly. The entire time they had been at school, Fred and George had been pouring over the same piece of parchment. They were continuously huddled together, muttering to themselves and scratching away at the paper in front of them. Emma had tried asking what they were doing a few times, but George had deflected more than once. Considering he had been strange with her the past few weeks, Emma didn't bother to try and question him further; she would get nowhere. Though Emma didn't understand why,

She turned her attention to Justin a few seats down, talking animatedly with Wayne and Leanne. That was a conflicting situation for her, and she had even admitted it to herself back in Saint Mungo's. She had told herself that they were just really good friends and that she saw him as a younger brother, but was that just her way of protecting herself? Emma had always been close to Justin, but she didn't think he ever saw her as anything more than a good friend. Was it possible that there were more feelings there than she thought? Persephone had brought it up on her birthday, and then Greyson brought it up again that morning. Emma straightened up slightly as Justin noticed her looking at him, and he waved, his smile bright. She waved back and quickly looked away, turning her attention back to her book, propping her head on her hand.

When Emma felt that Justin's attention was back in his conversation, she lifted her gaze to peer back up at the staff table. The more she tried to figure Greyson out, the more confused she became. What sort of game was Greyson Fenmore playing, and why did it have to be with her? She was startled out of her thoughts as Persephone plunked herself down next to Emma, a smug smile on her face.

"I know that look," Persephone said slowly, giving Emma a once over.

"What look?" Emma asked, just as slowly. She lifted her head off of her hand to give Persephone her best glare.

"The look you get when you're _interested_ ," Persephone practically chirped. She looked over at Greyson and then back at Emma. "Believe in Divination yet, Emma? Because it's happening."

Emma scoffed at the idea, dropping her head on her hand. "Absolutely not," Emma said, glaring at Persephone. "Don't you dare tell me that _he's_ going to be my husband again. You do recall one major issue, right?" Emma lifted her left hand to point to the ring on her finger. "You know, namely that a certain someone had made me his intended wolfy wife?"

"Listen, take your pick – five-year difference with Greyson or thirty-four with Fen," Persephone said pointedly. "I think it's a no brainer."

"But why does it have to be Greyson? Why can't it be George?"

"You'd have a better chance with _Ernie_ than George," Persephone said, a little too loudly. Ernie's eyes shot up, and he sent a glare in their direction just as Emma smacked Persephone's arm hard. "Just think of how _romantic_ it would be," Persephone added, rubbing her arm.

"Romantic?" Emma questioned. "Romantic?! What could be at all romantic about this?"

"Think about it," Persephone said, looking fully prepared to argue her point, "you both are complete book nerds who met in Flourish and Blotts. He's the son of your mortal enemy, and you're the child of two men who fiercely oppose his father – it doesn't matter that Greyson doesn't really know him. The point is, Trelawney literally saw it in the crystal ball – your lives together are written in the stars, er…perhaps the moon for you two – is that offensive? Either way, she said that he will come into your life when you least expect it, Emma. Did you expect to meet Greyson in the bookstore?"

"Well, obviously not. I didn't expect to meet him at all – he didn't even exist until three weeks ago," Emma huffed, glancing past Persephone to look at Greyson. "But she also said that I'll immediately know who he is when I see him."

"Correction – when you _truly_ see him," Persephone said, tapping her temple. "You two are too busy trying to get at each other's throats." A wide smile crossed Persephone's face, and her expression grew smug as she lowered her voice. "Between you and me, I think he's just as interested in you as you are in him. He's asked me about you."

"He's only asking you because he refuses to ask me things about myself," Emma scoffed, crossing her arms. "He's nosy. He's not interested."

"But you don't know Greyson like I do," Persephone said in an annoying sing-songing voice. "And I am telling you, he's interested, but he's shy. Don't let all that sarcasm have you fooled. He's like you – keep people at a distance so you can't get hurt. Dig deep into that little Hufflepuff heart and let him in and stop being mean."

"Me? He's the one who has to keep driving me absolutely mental!" Emma said with a slight growl. "I don't understand how you've kept a friendship with _him_ so quiet and why you never told me."

Persephone shrugged. "It's called being a Slytherin. You make connections, and I thought it would pay off in the end. Clearly, I was right, but you're stubborn. You're missing out, Little Lupin," she said. "I'm just saying you two are a perfect match. You could teach him a thing or two about finally accepting the whole…well, you know."

There weren't many things that made Emma doubt Persephone, but Persephone keeping her friendship with Greyson hidden bothered Emma. Emma could understand why Persephone would hide it, especially with Fenrir involved, but they were supposed to be best friends. However, Emma knew Fenrir well enough that he would stop at nothing if he knew he had a biological child. It was the only real reason he kept her around, after all – to bear his children. The very thought of it made her want to gag. Still, it didn't change that Persephone had known Greyson existed at all and that bothered Emma. Even if there was no possibility of her ever meeting Greyson, it still would have been nice to realize she wasn't the only half-werewolf around.

"I'm not missing out on anything," Emma managed to convince herself to say as she grabbed her things. "And I'm certainly not missing anything with _Greyson Fenmore_."

Thursday seemed promising as Greyson completely ignored her the next morning. She was free to work however she pleased, and it was delightfully _silent_. It was just as well as Emma's head was still pounding, and if Greyson dared to bother her, she might have yelled at him. However, the few times she looked up at Greyson, she couldn't help but wonder if he was a little more affected by the moon than she thought.

He was trying to read whatever book he had in front of him, rubbing his temples. It was clear his attention was elsewhere, and Emma wanted to ask, but she didn't. She had a feeling that he didn't quite forgive her for bringing up he was half-werewolf as well. If Emma was right about Greyson, he was like her and preferred to suffer in silence. The only difference was she couldn't do that any longer while Greyson could. Greyson could pretend that he had a dreadful headache, and no one would question it. Emma found herself green with envy over his ability to slip under the radar. She would give anything to be able to do that again.

It was during double Potions that Emma decided that Greyson was definitely affected by the full moon. He didn't look ill like she did, but she could see the flickers of pain in his eyes, and he was quieter than usual. When Greyson announced at the beginning of the class, he would be giving them a quiz at the start of the second hour, Emma had an idea of what he was doing.

The class let out a resounding groan of disappointment, but everyone perked up when he said they could leave as soon as they were done. Remus used to do the exact same thing during full moon weeks, and Emma understood entirely. When Greyson's gaze met hers for the first time since the day prior, Emma saw the shiver of fear that crossed his face. Emma didn't immediately understand why, but half-way through her quiz, she questioned herself if it was because he worried she would tell his secret. As annoying as she found Greyson, she would never do such a thing to him.

Emma waited for the rest of the class to clear out after finishing their quizzes. It was painstaking to try and act as though she was struggling through her quiz, but she wanted to help Greyson. Justin gave her a funny look when he rose from his seat, but Emma gave him a small shrug. Everyone knew that Emma finished her quizzes quickly and was often out of the room within twenty minutes.

"Harder than I thought," Emma mouthed to Justin. He studied her for a moment, but then he gave her a small smile.

"You've got this," he mouthed back. Justin quickly gathered his things and left, leaving Emma alone with Greyson.

"Oh, thank God," Emma breathed out, leaning back in her seat. "I didn't think this room was going to clear out fast enough."

"Do you have a problem?" Greyson asked, his brows knitting together as he looked up from his book to acknowledge Emma's presence. "I thought you left already."

"No, I don't have a problem," Emma said, scratching out the rest of her answers on the quiz as fast as she could. "I was done ages ago, but _you_ have a problem."

"What do you mean?"

Emma looked up from her quiz to give Greyson a pointed look. "I'm very familiar with the whole giving a quiz when you feel like shit tactic," Emma said, turning her attention back to the paper in front of her. She stuck her tongue out between her teeth in thought as she read through her answers and shrugged. A sympathetic smile crossed Emma's face as she met Greyson's inquisitive look.

"Already forgetting my Dad was a werewolf and taught here?" Emma questioned, her eyebrows lifting slightly. "Trust me, I used to look forward to when he scheduled quizzes and tests during full moon weeks. Although, I actually preferred when he would lecture. Dad's got a really soothing voice, and I would just sort of start to drift off. One time I actually fell asleep – that was a bit embarrassing, but considering my mental state…" Emma trailed off, setting her quiz back down on her desk with a nervous giggle. "Well, I'll just say that no one questioned it if I were to fall asleep during class. Speaking of which, you're not that terrible to listen to either, so it's a wonder that I didn't fall asleep today."

Emma's face immediately turned red as she realized exactly what she said. She quickly cleared her throat and gathered her things to tuck back into her bag. A light flush had crept across Greyson's face, and that only sent Emma into a nervous fit of giggles.

"Uhm, why are you telling me all of this?" Greyson asked, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. Emma took it as a good sign that he wasn't immediately defensive.

"Because you're also oblivious," Emma said, grabbing her quiz and standing up. Emma pulled the strap of her bag onto her shoulder and sighed as she crossed the room to drop her quiz on the pile in front of Greyson. He still looked curious, and Emma's lips twitched slightly into a smile as she dove back into her bag, pulling out a bar of Honeyduke's dark chocolate.

"I get the feeling you're quite ignorant to our shared…situation," Emma said quietly, setting the bar of chocolate down on the desk and pushed it towards Greyson. "I'm sure that no one's told you that dark chocolate will help with the headache. It's a temporary fix, but if you have a piece every hour or so, it'll help stave off the worst of it. Your headache won't go away entirely, but when not even Muggle solutions help, you take any bit of relief you can." Greyson's expression shifted from shock to aggravation and then a tight uncertainty. His nod of understanding was so small that Emma nearly missed it.

"I understand if you don't want to understand that side of yourself," Emma said quietly, shifting from foot to foot anxiously, "but if you ever want to talk about it…Well, I can tell you that your secret will always be safe with me." Emma cleared her throat, suddenly feeling stupid. She pointed at the bar of chocolate and forced a smile on her face that felt a little more genuine when she realized she could actually _share_ her father's advice with someone else. "Eat it – you'll feel better. A little bit, at least."

Emma turned on her heel and quickly made her way to the door. She had to resist the urge to smile back at Greyson when she heard the subtle crinkle of him opening the wrapper as the door started to close. When she saw Greyson at lunch, he seemed a little more himself, and he seemed to have a bit more energy.

Greyson managed to catch her eye from the staff table, and this time it was Emma's turn to give him a curious look. He lifted up the bar of chocolate that she had given him with the smallest of smiles with a nod. Emma huffed out a laugh and shook her head with a smile of her own. Perhaps Persephone had a point, and maybe Greyson's issues were rooted in him not understanding a part of himself. Emma still didn't like him, but perhaps he wasn't a lost cause like she thought.

As Emma started to return her attention to her lunch, she noticed how McGonagall looked between Greyson and Emma. A moment of panic swept through Emma's system, but McGonagall seemed oddly pleased. When McGonagall noticed that Emma was staring at her with wide-eyed horror, she sent a wink Emma's way. Emma quickly turned her attention back to her lunch in embarrassment. She hoped that meant that McGonagall wouldn't dare tell Remus. Then again, Remus had yet to say a word to her if he knew that Greyson was there. That reassuring fact made her feel as though her father was still blissfully unaware.

Emma tried to make a very hasty exit from the Great Hall. Clearly, she wasn't fast enough as McGonagall seemed to have superhuman speed. She had to suppress a groan as McGonagall placed a hand on her shoulder and gave the woman an innocent smile.

"Miss Lupin, if I may have a word with you," McGonagall said, steering Emma out of the Great Hall and into an empty room. McGonagall let go of Emma's shoulder and sat down in one of the chairs, looking expectantly at Emma. Emma immediately began to squirm under McGonagall's gaze, averting her gaze and playing with the hem of her jumper nervously.

"Does Dad know that Greyson's here?" Emma asked, peering up at McGonagall.

"Of course not, silly girl," McGonagall said with a soft laugh. "Anyone who knows the truth knows that Remus would come storming into the castle like a gallant knight if he knew. When Remus didn't do exactly that, we all realized it was because you never said a word."

"Because I knew he would do exactly that," Emma said with a sad laugh. "Not that I don't want him here, but…So others know who Greyson is?"

"We keep it quiet," McGonagall said, gesturing to the chair next to her. She waited until Emma finally sat down to speak next. "Just like we keep your secrets quiet. Although, I do have to apologize once more for the issue of your registry –"

"People have mostly left me alone about it," Emma said quickly, worrying her lip between her teeth. "Really, it's fine."

McGonagall gave Emma a soft smile in response. "And what are your thoughts on young Mr. Fenmore?" she asked.

"I, uhm…I suppose it's best to say it's complicated," Emma said quietly. "I'm sure Dad's kept you up to date on my issues with Professor Snape? It was a bit surprising to have Greyson show up in class on my birthday, no less."

"Yes, and while I disagree with Severus's tactics, I believe his plan to agitate you with Mr. Fenmore's presence isn't going to plan. I'm sure that you've realized that his intention was for Mr. Fenmore to interview to be your tutor."

"It was pointed out to me," Emma said, her forehead wrinkling in her confusion. "But what do you mean?"

"I'm not ignorant to believe that Severus doesn't hold a grudge against you or your parents. It's childish for him to take his frustrations out on you, and I'm sure he recognized that you would know exactly who Mr. Fenmore is. However, I believe that you and Mr. Fenmore might be growing fond of each other."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Emma said quietly. "I don't know that we've had a real conversation just yet."

"I think that you'll find Mr. Fenmore is very like yourself," McGonagall said. "I'm sure that he doesn't seem like it, but he's very shy. He's exceptionally bright and very ambitious, but shy."

"Greyson's shy? I would never believe it."

"Oh, I used to tell him off for having his nose in a book during class," McGonagall said fondly. "If he found a book that he enjoyed, it would be difficult to get him out of it. His first few years here, he was such a quiet young man. When he joined the Quidditch team, he started to blossom with his confidence…not too unlike someone else I know."

"My Dad? But he didn't play Quidditch…"

"No – I mean you." Emma looked at McGonagall in surprise, and a frown crossed her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but she wasn't entirely sure what to say. McGonagall's smile was somehow even softer than before. "While you are very much like Remus, you are your own person. You are much more accepting of others than your father is. Remus has a very gentle soul, but he allows his prejudices to get ahead of him. I believe that you and Mr. Fenmore could be…close friends."

"Because of…what we are? Because of who our fathers are?"

"Yes and no," McGonagall said slowly. "I believe that you need a friend right now, and I believe that he needs help to find the acceptance he could never find growing up. I think if you two were to sit down and get to know each other, you would see just how alike you both are."

"I don't know," Emma said, rubbing the back of her neck. "I don't know if Dad –"

"Don't worry about what Remus thinks," McGonagall said.

"But what about –"

"If neither your father nor Mr. Fenmore's father was a part of the equation, would you find yourself being his friend? Answer that question first."

Emma looked at McGonagall for one long moment and looked down at her shoes. She had been having that debate with herself for the past week, and though she didn't understand it, she only had one answer.

"Of course," Emma said quietly. "He clearly loves what he does, and I can admire that about him. He's a bit annoying, but he's also a Slytherin, so I would think that regardless." A small smile crossed Emma's face, and she shook her head. "But I still don't think he would be interested in being my friend. How am I supposed to try and become friends with someone who clearly doesn't want to get to know me?"

"I think you'll find that a little kindness goes a long way, Miss Lupin," McGonagall said sagely. She put a hand on Emma's knee and gave it a squeeze. "I think it's safe to say that you've managed to crack through Mr. Fenmore's tough exterior. Remember, it's the first time he's met someone like himself, too."

McGonagall smiled at Emma and gestured towards the door. "Perhaps it's best you be on your way," she said, rising from her chair as Emma stood from hers. Emma returned McGonagall's smile and was half-way out the door when McGonagall called her name. "Emma, if you were to find yourself having…favorable…feelings towards Mr. Fenmore, I would suggest _not_ telling your father without backup."

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" Emma questioned with wide eyes. She stepped back into the room to allow the door to close.

"I mean that your Aunt Minerva would be willing to put things into perspective for your father," McGonagall said with a knowing smile. "He's a handsome young man, and I understand that your culture is different than ordinary wizarding culture. I believe that many of us can turn a blind eye if it meant happiness was involved. Albus has requested that we follow your lead just as we did with your father at your age…but you didn't hear that from me. I don't believe your father would be pleased to hear that we've granted you the same leniencies we did for him. Besides, I was young once – I just pretend I don't know what's going on behind closed doors. If I don't see it, I know nothing."

Emma stared blankly at Professor McGonagall, trying to understand precisely what she was referring to. It took Emma a few moments longer before recognition suddenly hit, and Emma blushed furiously.

"Oh," Emma said quietly, unable to stop herself from giggling. Other than Remus, Professor McGonagall was the last person she would ever expect to endorse such a thing. Persephone she could at least understand as she very rarely kept her nose out of other people's business, but McGonagall? It took Emma another few moments to realize that McGonagall spoke to her as _Aunt Minerva_ and not Professor McGonagall. "Oh, I doubt that would ever happen. I think it would be a disaster, but I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, _Aunt Minnie_."

When Emma woke up Friday morning, she immediately wanted to go back to sleep, but she forced herself up. She wished she understood why the last few days leading up to the full moon were the worst. She had no idea how she was supposed to handle making the Wolfsbane Potion every month so early in the day. Even worse, Soleil seemed to be talking to her excessively. Soleil had decided that she was _very_ interested in Greyson, and it infuriated Emma. She still hadn't been able to take a real moment to herself, and Soleil's over-insistence to act on instinct drove Emma mental. More than once on her walk to the Potion's classroom, Emma mentally chastised herself for not taking the time to "fix" that problem. Sleep seemed far more important than trying to get Soleil to shut up, and she was paying for it. When the idea to take an ice-cold shower crossed her mind that morning, she should have. Soleil needed to be taught a lesson.

Emma knew that if the opportunity just to _snog_ Greyson presented itself, she would honestly take it. She was stressed and felt like a spring ready to snap, and she almost didn't care who she snogged. George didn't seem interested, which was bothersome, but the desire to scratch that particular itch was weighing heavily on Emma. Even though Emma knew that it _should_ be George she snogged, Soleil _really_ wanted it to be Greyson. Emma felt like she was being betrayed by her own mind. Even worse, Emma had quickly realized that Soleil wanted her to do much more than snog Greyson, but she could _never_. At least she didn't think that she could.

It had taken Emma far more time than she wanted to admit to herself to understand McGonagall's reference to werewolf culture. She had spent a very long time trying to figure out what she meant, and Emma realized Remus must have told her what her birthday meant. Even though she was still expected to abide by wizarding laws, Greyson was the exception – they were of both worlds. They had a completely different set of rules to go by. Even though Greyson was oblivious, it didn't change that his biology was similar to hers. Greyson had been considered an adult at fifteen, just as she was now, and Emma could bet that he had no idea.

Emma allowed a single growl to escape her lips as she approached the Potion's classroom. She had gone the entire summer without having Soleil have untoward thoughts with Fenrir, but with Greyson? It was an entirely different story. Having others try to push her towards Greyson had made Soleil practically chomping at the bit because others agreed with her. Soleil wanted Greyson, wanted to pull him into their small but growing pack, but did _Emma_ want him?

Soleil's insistence left Emma on edge and confused. The entire summer, Soleil's goals had been torn between wanting to submit to Fenrir or overthrow him. Both feelings were often the same thing, and Emma initially had no idea how that would work. Emma eventually figured out that Soleil's need for both was her wolfish need for wanting to find an equal footing with Fenrir. It was that recognition that made Emma realize that she needed to start considering working with her wolfish side. Even if the message didn't always translate well, Emma knew that she had to work with her wolfish impulses. Soleil's acceptance of Fenrir as their Alpha wasn't because she _wanted_ to; it was because she _needed_ to accept him. If Emma had any hope of her plans working, she had to give in to the wolfish side of herself, but she would be damned if she gave into it with Greyson. Even if she did, everything was so complicated that Emma had no idea how any of it could work, but it didn't matter. It would never happen, anyway.

Emma pressed her forehead to the door of the Potion's classroom and took in a deep breath. She refused to forget herself, though it was easy to do just before the full moon. Being around Fenrir had shown her how easy it was to just give in. For the few moments she let herself slip and give into Soleil and find acceptance in that side of herself, it felt almost freeing, but she couldn't do that now.

Soleil wanted her to give in so badly, and Emma had no idea how her father managed to make it seem so easy to ignore. The wolfish side of her wanted her to stroll right up to Greyson and take exactly what she wanted – _to claim him_ – but Emma couldn't. The idea of "claiming" someone just seemed bizarre, and it wasn't like she could go to Remus to question it. She certainly wasn't about to write to Fenrir about it; that would bring up far too many questions.

Emma knew that Greyson at least suffered to some extent with the full moon, but it definitely wasn't the same as what Emma experienced. Emma was jealous of him over it, but she supposed there was a trade-off; at least she could say her father wasn't Fenrir Greyback.

With another deep breath, Emma straightened up and shook her head. She couldn't think about any of that right now. Emma knew she couldn't give into Soleil without taking the time to see if Greyson understood the wolfish side of himself. She couldn't act on anything just before the full moon. If her thoughts and desires were still the same afterward and aligned with Soleil, well…that would be an entirely different conversation. It would be a very long, complicated, and confusing conversation.

Greyson's eyes lifted ever so slightly to meet hers as she entered, but he was quiet, quickly turning his attention back to his book. Emma noted that he had a fresh bar of Honeyduke's chocolate sitting next to him, one piece already snapped from the corner. At least her advice had helped, and that perked her up slightly. For one long moment, Emma studied Greyson, curious to know what book he was reading so intently but went about her tasks.

When Emma finished making the potions, she had her dose, gave Greyson a quick wave, and returned back to the dorm to sleep. There was no point in her going to History of Magic, and she slept all the way until she had to return to Potions for her actual class.

She was silently thankful that Greyson decided to have them work on revising the Wiggenweld potion. She had made the potion hundreds of times, and it was another one that she could do in her sleep. It was the perfect sort of potion to make in her exhausted state as she didn't have to think hard about what she was doing. Everything was going well until it went horribly, horribly wrong.

Emma melted her cauldron.

She had never melted her cauldron before while working on a potion, and she was horrified. What did she do wrong all of a sudden? Emma remembered adding her first set of five lionfish spines, was waiting for the potion to change colors, and looked away for one brief moment. She wasn't even sure that the potion had even changed colors before the bottom of her cauldron melted out. It happened so quickly that Emma barely even had time to react. Mandy was the first one who noticed as she squeaked out in surprise, and that was when Emma saw the problem. Rather than doing something about it, Greyson was over to their table, grabbing hold of her upper arm to pull her away. Rather than continuing the class, Greyson dismissed everyone but kept a hold on Emma's arm.

"What happened, Lupin?" he asked her gently once the mess of her potion was cleaned up with a wave of his wand and the room was empty.

"I don't know," Emma said quietly, staring at her melted cauldron. Her anxiety was settling into her very limbs uncomfortably, and she hugged herself to try and soothe her nerves. She was too focused on her cauldron to realize that Greyson's hand had moved from her arm to her back, and he was rubbing soft circles between her shoulders. "I had just added the lionfish spines. I was waiting for the potion to change colors again."

"Did you have the heat correct?"

"I've made the potion hundreds of times," Emma said with a shaky breath. She sucked in another breath to try and calm her nerves. "I don't know what went wrong."

"A cauldron will melt if the heat isn't correct or if too much lionfish was added."

"But I didn't add too much lionfish," Emma moaned. "I've made this potion a hundred times for Madam Pomfrey, Greyson. I know how to make the Wiggenweld potion." Emma finally realized just how close they were and where Greyson's hand was when he fell scarily silent. She didn't entirely mind his close proximity or the warmth of his hand on her back.

"You just used my first name," he said quietly.

"I know," Emma said just as quietly with a slight grimace. "I'm sorry, I know you were teaching, but it just slipped out, and I –"

"It's fine," Greyson said quickly. He seemed to catch himself, clearing his throat and shoving his hands in his pockets. "I, uhm…there's no one in here. It's fine."

Emma hesitated for a moment, running a hand through her hair. "You can, er…you can call me Emma," she said. "If you'd like, of course," Emma added quickly.

"Oh," Greyson said in surprise. "Well, uhm, Lupin – I mean, Emma – do you want to come back here at lunch and try again? It seems odd that you can handle making the Wolfsbane Potion with no issue, and I just want to see what might have happened."

"Yeah," Emma said slowly. "Yeah, sure. I'll just be heading off to Defense then, and I'll come back at lunch."

Moody was more overbearing than usual in Defense. Emma knew her attention was drifting, but she was too focused elsewhere. What could she have possibly done wrong with the Wiggenweld potion? Emma continued to work through the steps in her mind, but nothing made sense to her. The only moment she couldn't account for was the moment she looked away – and where was she even looking? If Moody wasn't staring at her with his magical eye, Emma was sure her embarrassed flush would have been bright red. She looked away from the potion to look for Greyson. If she butchered the potion because she was too busy looking for Greyson, she would hate herself for it.

Her embarrassment continued well past Defense and into lunch as she made her way back to the Potion's classroom. Greyson spared her from setting things up as the ingredients and a cauldron were sitting ready for her. When Emma questioned it, he said that he took a look at what she had done earlier.

"Everything that wasn't melted was cut and measured perfectly when I tried to figure out what went wrong," Greyson said with a shrug. "It wasn't a big deal for me to prepare that much for you. Just make the potion."

Greyson was very attentive as he watched Emma make the Wiggenweld potion. His gaze was sharp as he watched every step she made, but he was quiet as he observed her work. By the time she finished, his brows were knit together with confusion.

"You did everything perfectly," he commented, crossing his arms. "But that reaction was definitely from the lionfish."

"But I didn't add too much," Emma said, repeating herself from earlier. Usually, the fumes from potion making didn't bother her, but it was making her head hurt even more. She pressed the palms of her hands into her eye sockets to try and ease her headache. "I only looked away for just a second –"

"You looked away?"

"I knew I had at least five minutes before the potion would change colors again," Emma said slowly. She hoped Greyson wouldn't ask her why she looked away. A sudden snap echoed in the otherwise silent classroom, and Emma jumped. She pulled her hands away from her eyes to look at Greyson in alarm. Her attention was very quickly drawn to the piece of chocolate held in his hand, and she took in his sheepish grin.

"Sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to startle you. You just looked like you needed a piece."

Emma sighed, taking the chocolate from Greyson with a quiet, "Thanks." She popped the chocolate into her mouth and let it melt onto her tongue with an appreciative hum. It took just enough of the edge of her headache off. Maybe McGonagall was right, and she had broken through to Greyson somehow.

"Is there a possibility that someone might have added an additional spine while you weren't looking?" Greyson asked.

"I would hope not," Emma replied, her stomach sinking at the thought. She tried to think of who was around but couldn't recall anyone other than Mandy and Anthony being at their table. She didn't think either of them would do something to sabotage her potion, but then again, Emma wasn't too sure anymore. "I don't know now, though…"

"I'll try and do some investigating then," Greyson said, looking at his watch. "Go get something to eat while lunch is still going on. I didn't see you at breakfast, so I'm sure you're probably starving. Don't give me another reason to worry about you."

Emma nodded, making her way up to the Great Hall and plunking down heavily at the Hufflepuff table. She was half-way through eating her lunch when a thought suddenly struck her. Greyson had been looking for her at breakfast and told her not to give him another reason to worry. Why would he worry about her at all? That was curious.

An uneasy feeling crept into Emma's stomach during Charms. Something felt _wrong_ , but she didn't know what it was. Emma felt the need to write to Remus to make sure that everything was all right, but when she reached for her notebook in her bag, it felt cool. If something was wrong, surely Remus would have written and told her. She knew Sirius was still at home, and if something were to happen to Remus, Sirius would know to write to her. Panic rose up at the idea that something had happened to them both.

Worried, Emma very gently pressed her fingers to her bracelet, needing some sort of reassurance that things were fine. She couldn't easily write in her notebook in Charms when it wasn't activated just yet, but she would if she had to. When she received Remus's answering response, she felt a little better, but she still felt worried sick. Something was wrong – it had to be.

The feeling that something was wrong persisted all through Transfiguration. It only grew worse when McGonagall pulled her aside to say that her appointment with Dr. Wheeler was canceled. That wasn't normal, especially when she already missed her appointment the previous week because of her birthday.

Everything seemed mostly normal in class, but McGonagall seemed a bit more subdued. Was it just Emma feeling on edge, or did McGonagall know something that she didn't? Emma was tempted to ask, wanting to take advantage of Aunt Minerva, but when she reached into her bag to touch her notebook, it was hot. She had developed an almost secret language with Remus with the bracelets and gave five quick taps – their way of asking if things were all right. When Emma received only one prolonged moment of heat against her wrist in response, her stomach dropped. It wasn't a good sign if Remus was telling her no.

The moment class was over, Emma shoved her things into her bag and sprinted towards the closest hidden spot she could. She ripped her notebook out of her bag, wrote in the Marauder's oath, and nearly let out a scream of frustration at what she saw.

' _Don't panic just yet. We're trying to figure things out. We'll talk later._ '

What was _that_ supposed to mean? How was she supposed to not panic if she didn't know what she shouldn't be panicking over? Remus's message only made her panic even more, and she shoved her notebook back into her bag angrily.

Emma's mood soured further when she stepped foot into the Great Hall. It seemed like the entire room was waiting for her arrival as heads very quickly turned her way. Emma's walking was slow until she stopped to a complete halt, not understanding why she had so much attention on her.

"Emma!" Persephone shouted loudly, her voice warbling with nerves. Persephone was on her feet and over to Emma in a matter of seconds, thrusting a copy of the evening Daily Prophet into her hands. "You have to look!" The urgent tone in Persephone's voice already made Emma sick, but it was the headline that nearly made the feeling become a reality. Emma wanted to throw up.

_A WEREWOLF IN SAINT MUNGO'S - A WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING OR SOMETHING MORE SINISTER?_

Emma's stomach plummeted as she pulled the paper closer to scan through the article, desperately hoping it couldn't be who she thought it was. There had to be another werewolf, right? Elara couldn't be the only werewolf working in Saint Mungo's – the hospital was huge _._ Oh, and there _had_ to be another Elara Douglas that worked in the hospital that worked in the Serious Bites department. And the other said Elara Douglas had to be taking care of another Emma Lupin – how funny there was another Emma Lupin, too. And said Elara Douglas that took care of the other Emma Lupin couldn't be –

"They've scheduled to execute her pending a trial?" Emma gasped out, looking at Persephone, her vision blurring heavily with tears. "Effie…they can't. Not Elara. They can't have arrested her just this morning and decided to _kill her_ already. She hasn't even had a trial yet, and they already have plans to _kill her_? They didn't even do that with Dad!" Emma's breath was coming out in sharp gasps as she looked down at the paper in her hands. "You know that the trial is pointless, and they're only doing it because they have to. They're going to…no. They can't. They can't do this…"

"Emma –"

"Jude did this," Emma choked out, thrusting the paper roughly back into Persephone's hands in anger. "This is all Jude's fault."

"How do you –"

"He's one of the only other people who knew!" Emma started to walk backward slowly and gave Persephone a suspicious look. "Were you just about to defend him again?"

"I wasn't trying to defend him, but how do you know?"

"Who else would it be?" Emma snapped, pointing a finger at Persephone. "If it wasn't him, was it _you_?"

"Emma, I would never, but –"

"Then it was Jude," Emma said sharply. She found herself looking for the only person who could potentially understand what she was feeling up at the staff table. When she met Greyson's gaze and saw the newspaper clutched in his hands, Emma broke. Greyson couldn't possibly understand what she was actually feeling, and Emma felt stupid for thinking otherwise.

"I can't be here right now," Emma managed to stammer out. With one final look around the room, Emma turned on her heel and ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Heh. I'm sad._
> 
> Anyway, to all of my late-night readers, please head on off to sleep!
> 
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> 


	40. Cosmic Alignment

Emma couldn't figure out where to go to hide, and so she went to the only place she could think of – the alcove near the Defense classroom. She had spent so many hours hidden in the small nook when she couldn't stand to be in her room. Remus always knew where to find her, and that was all that had mattered at the time. Now? All that mattered was that she was hidden.

Every time Emma thought she couldn't possibly be angrier or more terrified, there was always something to prove her wrong. Emma had been teetering on the edge of not knowing what to do about Fenrir, but things had become much clearer. She couldn't lose any part of her pack, and Elara was such an integral part of it. It was her, Remus, Sirius, and Elara – it wasn't their pack if they weren't all together. Emma was more than willing to do anything it took to ensure that they could all be together, but the question was could Fenrir follow through? If Emma took her place in the pack, she had no doubt that Fenrir would move mountains for her, but would it be enough?

For one brief panic-induced moment, Emma thought that Fenrir had orchestrated the entire thing and not Jude. The thought quickly left her mind, and she shook her head to clear it – Fenrir would never do such a thing. She could recall the way he snarled when they spoke of his thoughts on the Ministry and the way his entire expression darkened with his anger. He would never sell out one of his own wolves to the Ministry, especially not when he knew how important Elara was to her. Fenrir already knew her answer; all that was left was to turn it into a magical contract. He would never stoop so low if he wanted to keep her willing.

She wasn't entirely sure how long she stayed hidden in the alcove, but the sky was beginning to darken outside the tall window. Emma couldn't keep herself still, pacing frantically in the small amount of space she had.

Her panic was growing quickly, the walls feeling as though they were closing in on her, and she felt her chest begin to tighten. She leaned against the wall with a heavy thud and unknotted her tie, throwing it to the ground with a growl. A whine escaped her lips when that did little to relieve the pressure closing in on her. She practically ripped her robe and her jumper off and tossed that to the ground as well, undoing the top few buttons of her blouse. It had been so long since such a severe panic attack started to talk hold where Emma couldn't think straight. She slid down the wall and pressed her forehead to her knees, trying to even out her breaths.

What was she supposed to do when she got like this? Count colors? No. Touch scents? That made even less sense, and Emma could feel her frustration growing.

Emma rubbed her hand over her chest, praying that the action would somehow kickstart her breathing, but her chest was tight. Her chest was so tight that it was painful, and she was getting dizzy, and _God damn it_ , she was alone, and no one knew where to find her. The fact she could just _die_ behind the tapestry, and no one would know struck Emma hard. It was such an irrational thought for her to have, and she knew that – she told herself repeatedly, but she couldn't stop thinking about it.

Desperate, Emma reached shakily for her robe to find her wand. She could make a Patronus – that would help her. Seeing her Patronus always reminded her that everything would be all right. She had worked so long with Remus to form her Patronus and loved that it was such a huge part of her and gave her a closer connection to her father.

" _Expecto patronum_ ," Emma muttered shakily, trying to pull everything she needed to bring forth her Patronus. " _Expecto patronum. Expecto patronum. Expecto patronum_ ," she continued to repeat to herself. She could feel her resolve quickly starting to break and the whine in her voice was more persistent. " _Expecto…Expect…Patronum…Expecto…_ " She couldn't do it. As hard as Emma tried to concentrate, her Patronus wasn't coming, and she stared helplessly at her wand. What if she couldn't make her Patronus ever again? _What if, what if, what if?_

Her head snapped up and over to the tapestry as it moved, and she watched nervously, breathlessly to see who it could possibly be. Emma wasn't sure if it made her more frustrated or relieved that it was Greyson who stepped around the heavy fabric. Greyson, to her surprise, looked momentarily relieved, but Emma didn't miss the way he scanned her entire body. His eyes fell accusingly on her wand, and Emma felt herself break a little further, her chest still impossibly tight. She suddenly felt embarrassed – how bad did Snape make her out to be that Greyson felt the need to immediately check if she'd hurt herself?

"I can't…I can't cast my Patronus," Emma choked out in explanation, blinking quickly to keep her tears from falling. She couldn't cry in front of Greyson; she couldn't. But he gave her a confused look, and then she couldn't stop her tears from flowing freely.

Emma threw her wand somewhere in the direction of her things and pressed her forehead to her knees and started to sob. Why couldn't _one_ thing go right for her? All she wanted was to be held and told that everything was okay, even though it most definitely wasn't.

She knew she was truly desperate when she felt Greyson's arms snake around her body and draw her close to his. Emma knew she was even more desperate when she found herself clutching to him as if he was her lifeline. For all she knew, in her current state, he was. Greyson was solid and warm, and he was something real for her to hold onto, and – if Emma could strangle Soleil, she would.

The sudden surge of emotions that Soleil brought forth made Emma feel better and worse at the same time. Soleil made Emma very aware of how nicely she fit in Greyson's arms, even though she was a sobbing mess. He smelled wonderful, and the odd familiarity of his cologne was soothing, and she had to resist breathing in his scent. She had to look mental enough without burying her face into the crook of his neck to smell him. Though Soleil was aggravating, Emma wasn't about to pass up the overwhelming feeling of safety that Greyson surprisingly brought her. She could feel herself melting into his embrace, her sobs ebbing into broken hiccoughs as she relaxed. When Greyson adjusted his hold on her to be just a little tighter, Emma found herself doing the same.

Her nerves started to calm, and as Emma began to return back to her more rational thinking, she became aware of how close they were. He was kneeling down next to her, and she had practically thrown herself into his lap in her need to be close to someone. His arms were wrapped tightly around her middle, hers around his neck, and Soleil was howling in sheer delight at the press of his body against hers. Emma found herself enjoying it, too.

"Everyone's looking for you," Greyson said softly, his hands coming up to rub her back softly. "It's, ah…a bit of a situation right now."

Emma could hear the apology in his voice, and she groaned. She released her hold just enough so that she could drop her forehead to Greyson's shoulder.

"Picking between you stubbed your toe, and the world is ending, how bad are things right now?" Emma whispered, an errant smile crossing her face at Greyson's disbelieving chuckle.

"Possibly just below the world is ending," Greyson admitted. "You've got a lot of people worried about you."

"Who snitched on me to my Dad?" Greyson tensed up slightly.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I'm not stupid," Emma muttered. "He's the only one who knows I used to come hide out here. Which means he's now got something else to worry about…" When Greyson didn't answer right away, Emma forced herself to let go just enough to meet Greyson's eyes. She couldn't convince herself to let go of him just yet, relishing having him be so close. Soleil was practically screeching at her to just move forward and kiss him, but the timing of such a thing would be awful. Emma searched his gaze, trying to push Soleil's invading insistence away, and her lips parted with surprise in an understanding of the situation. " _You_ snitched to my Dad?"

"Not entirely," Greyson said, his brows furrowing slightly. "I've heard the way you talk about him, and if anyone would know, it would be him. I asked McGonagall to call him…"

"Because you knew he would know exactly who you are?" Emma asked. Greyson's lips twitched slightly, and he nodded, swallowing hard. Emma pulled away from Greyson a little further just so she could study his face better. She couldn't figure out exactly what expression he had on his face, but she desperately wanted to brush her thumb over his brow to smooth out the crease forming. What scared her was _that_ thought was hers and not Soleil's.

"I worried you again," she said, her head tilting slightly. She rubbed hard at her eyes and wiped at her face to clear her tears. "Why?"

"I don't know," Greyson whispered. "I really don't. I just…I don't know." Greyson only held Emma's gaze for a moment longer before he averted his gaze, clearing his throat. He reached into his pocket to pull out a handkerchief and held it up for Emma to take. "I should…I should probably tell someone I found you so everyone can stop searching."

Emma frowned, slowly disentangling herself from Greyson and taking his handkerchief, amused that he was the sort of person who carried one. She ran her hands over her face, shaking her head. Emma sat back against the wall with a sigh, closing her eyes for a moment, twisting the thin fabric of Greyson's handkerchief in her hands.

"I've just earned myself a night with Madam Pomfrey, haven't I?" she asked, huffing out a bitter laugh as she looked up at Greyson.

"It's just precautionary," Greyson said lightly. He stood up, rocking slightly on his heels for a moment and then holding his hands out towards Emma to take. "I think we should probably try and start over while we're at it."

Emma hummed quietly as she reached up to take Greyson's hands so he could pull her up. She looked at Greyson expectantly, waiting for him to say something, but he seemed more focused on looking at her hands in his. Emma found herself taking a moment to do the same, trying to ignore how nice just _this_ felt. It felt much different than in Flourish and Blotts.

"I, uhm," Greyson's thumbs brushed over Emma's knuckles, and he met Emma's eyes with an almost shy smile. "I'm Greyson Fenmore. And…you are?"

"Emma Lupin," Emma replied with a snort. "And I believe you're meant to be hauling me off to Madam Pomfrey's."

"Yes, that would probably be a good idea," Greyson sighed, pulling his hands away and shoving them in his pockets. "Do you need me to, er…carry your things?"

"No," Emma said quietly, crouching down to grab her things. "I've just been pegged as a flight risk, not an invalid. I can handle carrying my things." She tucked as much as she could into her bag and stood, her face heating up with embarrassment. "I'm…really sorry that it was you who actually found me. But…thank you." Emma was about to sling the strap of her bag over her shoulder, but Greyson grabbed onto it, pulling it out of her hands. She made to protest, but Greyson already had the strap over his shoulder and was over to the tapestry.

"It's fine," Greyson said lightly, one corner of his lips lifting. "Come on, let's get you out of here. I'm sure you're probably hungry and could use some rest." Greyson Fenmore was never more of a mystery to Emma than right then.

It was just as well that she had to see Madam Pomfrey as she managed to kill two birds with one stone. Emma managed to pass Pomfrey's overly comprehensive questioning that she was sure came from Dr. Wheeler, but she also finally followed through on Moody's suggestion. She was just glad that it was so early in the year that the hospital wing was completely empty except for her. If anyone else was in the room

Madam Pomfrey was horrified during the physical testing she ran on Emma. Emma hated every single moment of her sympathetic and angry looks. She knew that Pomfrey's anger wasn't directed towards her, but it didn't make Emma feel any better.

"Miss Lupin, I don't understand why you didn't bring this up sooner," Pomfrey said, writing hurriedly in Emma's chart. "Do you not understand the gravity of this curse being cast on you?"

"I do," Emma said quietly. "But I…I was scared. Professor Moody tried to get me to come here sooner, but I just didn't." Pomfrey's lips pursed, and she tutted softly under her breath with a soft shake of her head as she continued to write.

"Well, I suppose it's better late than never," Pomfrey sighed. "And you're aware that I will have to report the use of the Cruciatus, yes? And that tonight's incident will be added to your records? And if this behavior continues, we'll have to implement similar measures to last year?"

"I don't care anymore," Emma said quietly, crossing her arms. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at the unamused look on Pomfrey's face. Emma knew all of this already, _the year before_. They had drilled every possible scenario into Emma's head at every potential opportunity they worried about her.

"Mr. Fenmore, you are free to leave," Pomfrey said to Greyson, who waited at the entrance of the hospital wing.

"I was actually hoping to stay," Greyson replied. "If you don't mind, of course."

Emma whipped around to look at Greyson so quickly that she tweaked her back. She gave him a funny look, but he ignored her and gave Madam Pomfrey a wide smile. Emma's stomach did a delighted little flip at his smile – she loved his smile – and Soleil was practically purring at the idea of him staying. What was Greyson doing?

"Oh," Pomfrey said. She hesitated for a moment and then glanced at Emma. "Well, I suppose for a night it would be all right. I'll make sure that Miss Lupin gets situated if you don't mind. Come back in an hour."

Emma begrudgingly put on the scratchy hospital pajamas that Madam Pomfrey gave her and settled into her usual bed. The fact she even had a usual bed was both annoying and amusing to Emma, and she reached for her notebook. If Emma didn't tell Remus she was actually okay, she knew he would completely lose it. It was a wonder that he didn't just burst through the hospital wing doors at any given moment, but she knew he had to be home.

Remus was more than relieved to hear from her, just like she thought he would be, and Emma felt guilty for scaring him. She wrote exactly that, and Remus made her feel a little better when he said he understood, and he wished he could be there. It took everything in Emma's power to not burst into tears again. She wanted nothing more than for Remus to be with her, but she knew how terrible of an idea that would be. He needed to be home for now, and that was where Emma wanted him to be. Remus needed Sirius, and though Emma needed them both, she would be fine.

She ate her dinner slowly, if only to prolong the moment that Pomfrey would insist that she go to bed. The slower she ate, the longer it meant she could stay up just writing to Remus, but when Greyson returned, Emma was curious.

Greyson had a small messenger bag with him, and he had changed into something more casual. Emma's stupid butterflies went through her stomach again at the realization that Greyson seriously meant to stay. She found herself looking down at her hospital pajamas and immediately blushed. Why didn't she think to stop and get her actual pajamas so that she wouldn't look like a child in the hospital issued outfit? Thin blue stripes were not a good look for her.

Her blush only grew when Greyson stopped in front of her bed. One of his eyebrows arched slightly as he took in her pink cheeks, and his lips twitched at the corners. He reached into his bag and pulled out what looked like clothes, dropping them on her bed.

"Thought you'd be more comfortable in these," he said quietly, reaching into his bag once more and dropping a book on top of the clothes. Emma had to admit that she might have fallen a little in love with Greyson when she saw it was The Hobbit. "I haven't seen you carrying a book in a few days. I noticed that you normally read Fellowship of the Ring, but I wasn't sure if you had it with you. Didn't think you'd appreciate being stuck here and being bored if you didn't."

Emma followed Greyson with her eyes as he made his way to the bed next to hers and frowned slightly. She was very appreciative of Greyson bringing her different clothes to wear and a book, but she had no idea he paid that much attention to her. To be fair, she did the same with him, but to find out he knew that much about her? It was somehow endearing.

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, looking between Greyson and the clothes. Would it be too weird to wear his clothes? They obviously weren't hers – she certainly didn't own anything in Slytherin green. Looking down at the hospital pajamas, Emma decided it wasn't weird at all. She leaned forward to scoop the clothes up in her hands, setting the book aside, and practically ran to the bathroom to change.

When Emma saw what Greyson brought her, she had to burst into hysterical laughter. He was lending her a very comfortable pair of flannel pajama bottoms that were obviously too long in the legs, but that wasn't the funny part. Greyson had brought her a Slytherin Quidditch t-shirt to wear – with his last name on the back.

She giggled to herself as she pulled it on over her head. Emma was sure he tried to find the smallest thing he could for her, and it fit surprisingly well, but it was funny. She shook her head as she spun around to look at herself in the mirror, shaking her head as she looked at it.

"Really?" Emma asked when she left the bathroom, giving Greyson a pointed look.

"I didn't want you to be swimming in my clothes," Greyson said, giving Emma an appraising once-over, smirking at the rolled-up hem of his flannel bottoms. "Besides, Persephone said the Sorting Hat considered you for Slytherin. Was curious to know what you'd look like in Slytherin colors."

"That is the most Slytherin thing you have ever said to me," Emma said, climbing back into bed and pulling the covers up. "Thank you, by the way. The hospital pajamas are scratchy."

"They're miserable," Greyson said. "Been in them far more times to count from Quidditch injuries that I started to leave clothes here just in case. Might be worth considering if you continue to play Quidditch."

For some reason, with Greyson there, Madam Pomfrey wasn't as overbearing as she would usually be. She was often firm with Emma, never mean, but she seemed to be more relaxed than usual that night. When Emma was sure that Madam Pomfrey would tell her off for still being awake, she made her way to her office instead.

"You know where to find me if you need me, dear," Madam Pomfrey said lightly, giving Emma a smile. "Good night."

Emma worried that the sudden silence and close proximity to Greyson would be weird, but it felt natural. It wasn't like they hadn't been alone together before, they spent at least an hour every morning together, after all, but this was different. Not only were they having an impromptu sleepover that he didn't need to stay for, but she was wearing _his_ clothes. If they were friends, they had somehow crossed from friends to very close friends in a matter of seconds. Emma found that she didn't entirely mind, and for once, it wasn't Soleil that was prompting her thoughts.

When Emma peered over at Greyson, her stomach squirmed in delight when she realized what he was reading. She didn't peg Greyson as the poetry type, but she found herself fascinated to see him reading something by Pablo Neruda. Part of her wanted to ask him to read a poem to her, but she noticed the title was in Spanish. She didn't want to embarrass herself if she asked for the translation, and it was one of his books of love poems. Instead, Emma returned to reading more about Bilbo's adventures. It didn't matter how often she had read through Tolkien's collection over the years; the stories would never get old. Emma didn't think she would ever be able to read any of Tolkien's books without thinking of her father.

"You didn't have to stay," Emma eventually said when she couldn't continue reading any longer. She turned on her side to look at Greyson, curling up underneath the thin blanket and pulling her pillow closer under her head.

"I know," Greyson replied. "But I felt like we should finally talk, and what better way than to be stuck in a room with someone all night?"

Emma rolled her eyes. It was such a Slytherin thing to do, but Greyson had a point. There never seemed like a good time to talk, and it appeared he felt they had reached a time where they needed to.

"What can we even talk about?" she asked quietly.

"A lot," Greyson shrugged, dogearing the page of the book he was reading. He closed his book, setting it to the side, looking over at her. "I wanted to apologize for judging you so quickly. I judged you for being exactly the same as me when it should be the other way around. You didn't ask for the life you have, and I never realized…I didn't realize just how lucky I actually had it growing up."

"I don't want your pity –"

"I'm _envious_ of you."

Emma blinked owlishly at Greyson, her head tilting slightly. "Why would you be jealous of _me_? You're the one who gets to go through life with very few people knowing who you actually are. I have to walk around with my story literally written on my skin."

"Because I could never be brave like you. You just…you take everything that people throw at you. I would want to run."

"I do want to run. I want to run every single day of my life," Emma said, cursing herself silently for the crack in her voice. "All I've wanted is to be home. I never wanted to come back here, and I feel like I don't get to control any part of my life anymore. I have to pretend that I don't hear what people say about me, but I hear it every single day. It's even worse feeling sick all the bloody time with the damn full moon and trying to navigate being here alone." Emma gestured weakly in Greyson's direction. "And then _you_ …You change everything."

"What do you mean?"

"Greyson, how much do you actually know about your father?"

Greyson's brow furrowed, and he shook his head. "Only a few things people have told me and the things I've researched myself. I don't know much about him at all."

"Do you want to know more about him?" Emma asked. Greyson looked incredibly torn, and she didn't blame him for the unsure look on his face. He eventually gave a slight nod, and Emma let out a long breath. "Well, settle in, I suppose. Do you want to know the good things about him or the bad?"

"There are good things?"

"I've been told that I'm one of the only few people in the world who can find good qualities about just about anyone. Drives a lot of people mental, really."

"Then…I suppose start with the good things," Greyson said quietly. He did some quick thinking and turned off his lamp so that the only light left in the room filtered in from the moon outside. He slid himself down on the bed to turn on his side, facing Emma. "I didn't think anyone could ever say that he has good qualities. Bit terrifying that you could even say that considering…considering what he's done for you."

"Believe it or not, he's helped me far more than I care to admit," Emma replied with an almost nervous giggle. She tried to think of where to start, trying to think of the last few weeks of the summer. "Well…the first thing to know is that he's got a terrible sweet tooth. I had at least a three-month supply of sugar quills, and he ate every single one I had…"

They talked all night. The more they spoke, the scarier it became how similar they were, but just how different their experiences were. Greyson was the first person Emma felt comfortable telling everything to, even the things she should keep quiet. Emma had a feeling that she was that person for Greyson, too. The two carried such massive secrets that they seemed to have built a rapid trust that the other would never tell them. Emma had never felt like she could do that before.

Greyson didn't have anything like Soleil living in his mind, which Emma was envious of, but he still had other symptoms. Greyson was very careful to tell her what symptoms he had. His careful phrasing made Emma wonder if he struggled to be around her for the same reasons she struggled to be around him. Though he danced around the topic, he told her that he grew more agitated around the full moon, sometimes falling ill, but he managed. Greyson thanked Emma no less than seven times just for the tip about the chocolate – he had no idea. He admitted that up until meeting her, he had no desire to learn more about that side of himself because he wanted to ignore it. As far as he was concerned, he was entirely human, and that's how he wanted to stay. His symptoms could be written off as "odd, but normal," and he had no idea just how bad things could be.

He was disturbed by how different werewolf culture was and how much lycanthropy changed a person's biology. Greyson confessed that he felt that he thought it would but didn't elaborate further and let Emma explain things further. The more Emma spoke, the more he looked as though things started to make sense.

"I had always wondered why I had to start shaving at fourteen," Greyson muttered, almost to himself. "I tried to research it once, but nothing existed. Was a bit of a rough time for me."

Greyson wasn't sure where his roots came from entirely, just that his mother's side of the family was Spanish. Emma felt guilty that she couldn't answer that question for Greyson, and his face fell slightly at her admission. It wasn't the sort of thing she ever talked to Fenrir about as it didn't seem to matter. Fenrir was a werewolf, "a superior magical creature," and that was most likely what he would tell her, but she vowed to try and find out. Greyson had been two when his mother had passed, and it was just one of the many things where Emma could find their similarities.

For the entirety of his Hogwarts years, Greyson had done research to try and figure out more about the Fenmore line. Greyson knew that Fenrir was a pure-blood, but as the Fenmore's were not considered part of the sacred families, there wasn't much literature. He had been able to find information about Fenrir, but that was where things stopped. As hard as he tried, it was like nothing existed earlier than Fenrir's entrance into the world.

"It's like it just never existed," Greyson said quietly, eyes staring up at the ceiling. "With all of the paper trails that exist in our world, you would think that there would be something, but there isn't."

"But who's to say that wasn't on purpose?" Emma asked quietly. "If anything existed here, and Fenrir had a plan…what if they don't exist on purpose? Which means that my job is going to be that much more difficult."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that I need to figure out exactly who Fenrir is before it's too late. Just that bit of information will help me so much."

Greyson had become so quiet that Emma thought he may have fallen asleep. She was settling herself into her pillow to do the same, but then he spoke up.

"I could show you," he said quietly. When Emma opened her eyes to look at Greyson, he was already looking at her. She took a moment to understand what he was trying to tell her, and she was appreciative. Greyson had no reason to help her, but he was willing to do so.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "That will…that will help a lot."

Greyson's anger with her had been entirely from the articles published in the Daily Prophet, and he apologized for it. Emma had a sneaking suspicion that's what it was about, but she didn't think it went even further than that.

"I think I was startled to realize that there was someone else like me. It's not as though half-werewolves go around broadcasting it everywhere," Greyson said quietly. "Imagine you're sitting with your very Muggle aunt one morning, and you read all of those articles knowing the reputation your father has. And even worse – so few people know that fact, but Skeeter seemed to be digging all information up about you two that I worried I was next. If people were to find out who I am –"

"That's the end of your reputation," Emma finished for him. "Believe me, I know. I often wonder if I've become an outcast from the whole werewolf thing, or if it's because of my relationship to Fenrir."

"But why do you have one in the first place? I don't… _why you_?" Greyson's face immediately turned red, and Emma had to laugh at his embarrassed flush that seemed clear as day in the light of the moon. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it like that at all."

"No, I get it," Emma said quietly. "I'm sure that has to be absolutely weird for you to know. I feel like I'm the one who should be sorry."

"But you clearly didn't ask for it. I highly doubt a two-year-old would actively decide to have a relationship with my father."

"Ah, but you forget the part where that's courtesy of my sperm donor. And that's where things become complicated. I can't explain that part of my story because Fenrir's never told me."

"But he told you that he wants to –"

"Greyson, for the love of God, please do _not_ repeat that bit. It'll make the…whatever this is, whatever _we_ are right now…just that much worse."

"Well, according to what you've told me, I should be asking you when I should start calling you step mum."

Emma's eyes grew wide as saucers as she stared at Greyson. His comment had been completely deadpanned, and Emma had _no_ idea what to make of it. She was silently cursing herself for even telling Greyson that part of things, but he asked, and for once, he didn't seem to judge her. Emma began to splutter with her confusion, unsure of how to come back from that one, but then he began to laugh, and the sound was absolutely wonderful.

"Greyson Fenmore, you absolute arse!" Emma shouted, grabbing her pillow and chucking it at Greyson. "It's not funny!"

"It's a little funny," Greyson said, laughing even harder as he pulled Emma's pillow close to himself. "And now you have no pillows, and I have two. That makes it even funnier. Remind me to send you a Mother's Day gift this year. Oh, and do I get to see you at holidays? I'm sure my aunt would be keen to meet you. We can all sit about the fire at Christmas with hot chocolate and trade really embarrassing stories. At least I can say that you're pretty, so that's nice."

"Oh, bugger," Emma said, covering her face. She wasn't at all expecting Greyson to say that she was pretty, and the blush that crept across her face felt as though it covered her entire body. Emma felt incredibly hot, and Soleil was preening at the compliment. "Greyson, I swear if Mother's Day comes around and you get me a gift, I will literally hex you. My Dad's an excellent duelist, and I'm sure I could convince him to help me find the perfect spell to use."

"I make no guarantees," Greyson replied with a cheeky grin. He stood up from his bed and crossed over to Emma's, handing back her pillow. With a small moment of hesitation, he sat down on the bed next to her, his expression more serious. "But really, why? I can understand the parts where my father helped you, but other than that, you owe him nothing."

"Coping mechanism," Emma said with a one-armed shrug. "I've spent nearly my entire life in his company to some degree. Add in needing to survive and making sure my father gets taken care of to some degree during this time, and, well, there are a lot of reasons why one would sell their soul to the devil. And unfortunately, I've been given another reason to do exactly that."

"What do you mean by that?"

Emma sighed, sitting up and hugging her pillow to her chest. "I mean that I can't lose Elara, too," Emma said quietly. "Elle's the closest thing I have to a mother, though she insists she's my cool aunt, but really she's everything for me. My entire life, I have been surrounded by men, both good and bad, and Elle's the one good woman I have in my life. Well, I suppose I have Aunt Minnie –"

"Aunt Minnie?"

"Professor McGonagall," Emma explained, smiling at Greyson's surprised expression. "But Elle…after my mum died, and after I tried to off myself, Elle really stepped up for me. She didn't have to, and I know you won't have an awareness of this because you're entirely alone in your head, but she's pack. Soleil pulled her into my pack, and she's family now. I'll do anything for my family."

"And that means giving yourself willingly to my father?"

"He already owns me," Emma said quietly. She reached up to her neck to touch the necklace Fenrir gave her, playing with the pendant. "Consider this a collar. I give myself to him, and he'll do everything in his power to keep me, which means everyone I love is kept safe."

"But you don't know that."

"I know him well enough to know that he's blinded by power, and he has it in his head that I'm part of that reason. It's not without risk, but I can't lose everyone. Not now."

"But he's –"

"Dangerous? Terrifying? The very definition of a monster? I know all of that."

"Why don't you tell someone?"

"Who am I going to tell?" Emma asked. "The Ministry's already pegged me as a full-blooded werewolf, and I'm expected to sign the registry in a few years. Nearly screwed myself over with the whole being of age thing at fifteen, but Dad's solicitor put his foot down on that. Said if they weren't going to acknowledge that I can legally do things now and would still go after me if I got caught doing 'under-age magic' then they couldn't force me to be added before I turned seventeen. If I really wanted to, I could just drop out today and end my education, but right now, it's one of the ways I ensure I stay mostly safe.

"At the end of the day, I've been outed for being something I'm not, and my current prospects are slim. If things don't change in a few years, then I'm completely done for. I know it seems mental and makes no sense, but you haven't had to live how I have the past few months. Everything I've done has been to make sure I live another day because it's not just one person I have to worry about. And it's all only gotten worse, not better, and I have to do what it takes to survive."

"Why doesn't your father do something about it?"

"What is he going to be able to do? He can't make my decisions for me – Fenrir was quite clear on that in my last conversation with him. My Dad'll fight for me, of course, but in the wizarding community, he's just seen as a creature. We both are. And that's where the whole Ministry thing and them keeping us apart is bloody stupid, and we don't know what to do. I'm human when they want me to be, but I'm a creature every other time. We don't have the same rights as everyone else, but I do with other werewolves. And that's why I have to go after my sperm donor. If he's the reason for Elle…The point is I need to do whatever it takes and hope the Ministry sees me as human enough that Jude using the Cruciatus on me matters."

Greyson looked to be very lost in thought, eyes focused on some spot on the floor. Emma wasn't sure exactly what Greyson was thinking about, but he was thinking about it hard.

"Don't do it," Greyson finally said, meeting Emma's gaze.

"What?"

"Don't do it," Greyson repeated. "Don't go to the pack or whatever it is you plan on doing. You honestly can't tell me that you think that your life has been reduced to…serving my father. There has to be another way."

"Greyson, there isn't –"

"You're too talented to have your skills wasted like that. There has to be – we can work together!"

"What?"

"I'll…I'll get my Potion's Mastery, and then we can…we can open some sort of apothecary and brew together. If I were to start now, it would be perfect. We could work together during the summer and the holidays, and in a few years…you said you want to help werewolves, yeah?"

"Well, yes, but Greyson –"

"Then it's perfect. We can grow almost everything on-site, find a decent distributor for everything else we need, offer the Wolfsbane Potion at low cost," Greyson said quickly. "If we do it right, then maybe we can offer it at no cost at all. I'm sure we could figure it out."

"Greyson, wait –"

"What? You can't tell me that you need to go running off to a werewolf pack. You don't belong there."

"Greyson, all of that sounds wonderful because it's something I would want to do, but…you don't even actually know me. You can't say that you would throw off your teaching plans just to – I don't even know what you're trying to do. You don't even like werewolves."

"I don't like _my father_ ," Greyson corrected Emma. "I don't like my father, and I'm not fond that I'm not entirely human like I keep trying to tell myself." Greyson trailed off, looking away from Emma. "And you're wrong about me not knowing you. I feel like I've known you my whole life. I was short with you in Flourish and Blotts because that terrified me, and I felt it the moment we both went to reach for the same book."

"So, you actually were following me then?" Emma asked in disbelief.

"A bit, yeah," Greyson admitted. "I just wanted to see what you actually looked like, but you kept your head down the entire time. However, I genuinely didn't mean to actually run into you…"

"Ah, so you admit that you _did_ run into me, then."

"I got scared," Greyson whispered. "You were this ridiculously tiny little thing, and you weren't at all what I expected. I spent so much time being angry at you because of the articles in the Prophet, and then I couldn't believe that someone like you existed. I couldn't decide if I wanted to hate you or be jealous of you or if I wanted to try and talk to you, and then suddenly, you were right there. It's like everything and nothing made sense."

"And then when you came here?"

"I don't know," Greyson said. "I know I've been an absolute arse, and you don't have to tell me that. But the more I learned about you, the more terrified I became that I was going absolutely mental. You're nothing like what the Prophet made you out to be, and nothing compares to actually watching you. And it kills me that you don't see yourself the way that other people do."

"A dangerous monster? An absolute –"

"Emma, please just listen to me," Greyson said. His tone was not sharp but firm. Emma immediately clamped her mouth shut, her eyes growing wide. "All it takes is spending time with you for someone to realize just how beautiful you actually are," Greyson continued. "You are talented and brilliant and incredibly fierce. I thought that before I even met you, before I…" Greyson trailed off, running a hand through his hair and looking away.

"I don't know what it is about you or why I feel the way I do about you, but it doesn't matter. All I'm saying is every opportunity where you could run, you haven't – until tonight. If I were you, I would have gone somewhere to hide, too, just to be alone. I can't imagine how terrifying it is to possibly lose someone that you care about so deeply. I don't know much about the pack, but I know about family, and if something were to happen to my aunt, I'd be devastated. But you care so much more about other people than yourself, and that's wonderful, but when do you think about what _you_ want?"

Emma was left speechless, and her heart was pounding so hard in her chest that she swore the sound echoed against the walls. She had to tuck Soleil into the deep recesses of her mind to try and process what Greyson just said. He didn't…did he? Did Persephone's insistence of being with Greyson go even further than Trelawney's nonsense? Was she reading into things more than she should?

"I don't…" Emma frowned, her brows knitting tightly together as she studied Greyson's profile. "What do you mean it doesn't matter? What doesn't matter?"

Greyson was quiet, looking down at his hands in his lap. Emma had never seen him look so pensive before, an air of uncertainty surrounding his entire being. His lips lifted into a half-hearted smile as he turned his head to look at her.

"Even if I thought I had a chance, you would never want to be with me because of who my father is. I could never blame you for that."

 _Oh._ Emma wasn't reading into things further than she thought. Every part of her grew warm with pleasurable delight at the idea that Greyson wanted more, but did she?

"Greyson, you're not your father," Emma whispered, her head tilting slightly. She moved her pillow off her lap and put a hand on Greyson's arm. "And you're wrong, too, you know."

"Wrong about what?"

Emma took a moment to think about what she wanted to say. Was she about to let Soleil talk for her, or was she speaking for herself? She couldn't deny that she was almost immediately attracted to Greyson and had given up on telling herself that she wasn't. The more they had talked that night, the more she had come to find other parts of him attractive.

Greyson was devoted to his family and loved the work that he was doing. He loved that he could go anywhere in the world with his line of work and had dreams of going wherever he could. His humor was so similar to hers that it was almost annoying because he was quick with his responses. He was a half-blood with strong Muggle roots, which she adored. The Potion's classroom had never been livelier as Greyson played music while they worked.

Emma had to force herself to breathe as things started to fit into place in her mind. She knew why Soleil was so insistent – Soleil knew Emma's thoughts before she did. The more she learned about Greyson, the more perfect he was for her. But did she dare?

"You're wrong in saying that I would never want to be with you," Emma said quietly, a blush crossing her face at the stunned but hopeful look on Greyson's face. "And you're right, I don't ever really think about what I want." Emma's heart was racing even faster, her stomach a nervous flutter of butterflies. She could pick out every possible reason why she shouldn't do what she wanted, how wrong it all was, but Emma could find even more reasons why she should. The opportunity was within her grasp, and with every single one of her thoughts finally aligning with Soleil, who was she to pass it up? It was all so fast, so sudden, but a niggling voice in her brain said that it was _right_ , and she needed to know. With a shaky breath, Emma slid herself closer to Greyson, not quite able to meet his gaze any longer.

His hand came up to cup her jaw, and Emma would be damned if his hand against her face didn't feel like fire against her skin. Greyson very gently lifted her face so that she was forced to look at him. Emma had never realized just how much his eyes were like a molten amber, warm and rich even in the cool silvery light of the moon. Had she ever actually seen anything more captivating in her life?

"And what do you want?" Greyson asked her, his expression and tone of voice hopeful.

"You," Emma whispered after a long pause.

Neither of them moved, both searching the other's face for any flicker of doubt. For a moment, Emma thought she had said the wrong thing, and her stomach started to sink. Emma started to move away, but Greyson suddenly pulled her closer with such unexpected softness that it made her gasp. He searched her face for one more long moment, their nervous breaths intermingling as he asked her silently for permission with his eyes. Emma managed a weak nod in response, and that was all Greyson needed before his mouth was on hers.

The brush of his lips against hers was featherlight at first, and then more urgent as if they were both afraid the moment would pass too quickly.

Emma didn't believe in a lot of things. She didn't believe in fate, didn't believe in Divination, didn't believe in destiny, but she believed in whatever led them together. Emma believed in the power of the universe, believed that it was a cosmic joke that she felt such a peacefulness with Greyson, but she didn't care. With her hands pressed to Greyson's chest and his tangled in the hair at the back of her neck, Emma only had one thought as they both smiled into each tender press of their lips.

If she was the sun, then Greyson was, too. For nothing could be more radiant than what they suddenly shared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…this chapter was 100% fan service for myself. I'm not going to lie. Also, we're playing in the wizarding world and rules just don't apply anymore. Plus they're half-magical creature, so ya know what? I WROTE IT FOR ME.
> 
> I wanted these two to quit being stupid for .435435243 seconds and SOOOOOO we have this. Ultimate fan service for me (also I wrote that as fen service for way too long before I noticed it….I hate myself). These two little boogers are my loves. We stan Gremma in this household. Also, this complicates so much so THAT'S going to be fun ehehehehe.
> 
> **come find me on:**   
>  [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/mymoonyandstars)   
>  [facebook](https://www.facebook.com/mymoonyandstars)   
>  [the moonlit stars discord](https://discord.gg/DtrKMhaTHR)
> 
> [spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/r6xi6203vwza01epk6askwk15?si=t4wwYBERRymTJvw09FJG3Q)  
> 


	41. Mutual Understanding

Emma had no idea how she managed to get through most of Saturday morning pretending nothing had happened in the hospital wing. The moment had seemed so fleeting that she wasn't even sure if it had happened at all. If it weren't for the well-concealed kissed in bruises along her collar bone, she would just deny it all and save herself the heartbreak. It would be fitting for her to bare her soul to someone and tell them everything for the first time in her life and have it all backfire. She was notorious for terrible decisions, but she _really_ didn't want Greyson to be one.

They kissed for what felt like hours, listening carefully for any signs that Pomfrey was about to walk in on them. Pomfrey's lack of appearance had Emma suspicious, but she chose to not question it, especially when Greyson's hands traveled to –

Emma wanted to smack herself for letting her thoughts wander and for wanting to act on the desperate need she felt. It was one thing to know that her thoughts had somehow aligned with Soleil's somewhere along the line; it was another to act on them. Kissing Greyson was already a bold step for her, and even when she felt things weren't moving too fast at all, she still worried. It only compounded the fact that George was _not_ right for her; he never made her feel the way that Greyson did.

She felt it was fair to worry, to question everything, but when she fell asleep snuggled up against Greyson, things felt _right_. Emma had been silently amused at the possibility she had been fighting the inevitable and that Greyson _would_ be her husband; she _wanted_ him to be. Emma questioned if it was just a childish fantasy and her need to feel safe, but what they shared felt too real to be only fantasy. When she dreamed that night, the faceless man that existed in the life she thought about often was Greyson. Perhaps she had to start believing in Divination just enough to accept that she was wrong.

Even if Trelawney had been pulling things out of a hat to tell Emma, it was spot on. Emma never would have considered herself falling for Greyson, but she was falling and falling fast. They shared a connection that soothed her entire being, fretful thoughts and worries being pushed to the side. She wondered if Greyson had felt it too; he had to. Greyson told her he felt as though he'd known her his whole life. Emma was slower to come to that thought, but she felt she had known him her entire life, too.

Greyson made her feel like she was so much more than the scars that others immediately judged her for. He felt terrible that those were the first thing he had gone for in his fear, confessing to her with such a guilt-laden voice. Greyson pressed his lips to each scar across her face and the scars across her wrists, apologizing even though he wasn't the cause. He gently lifted her right arm, pausing for one long anxiety-inducing moment before pressing his lips to the bite there. When he kissed the one on her shoulder, Emma found herself breaking when he apologized for that as well, gently brushing away her tears with his thumbs. How could she not fall in love with Greyson after that? How could she deny that there was _something_ between them? She couldn't.

But when she was woken up by Madam Pomfrey early that morning, he was gone. Emma was in her bed by herself, still curled up, the place where Greyson had been next to her cold as if he was never there. She looked over at the bed he had been occupying for the beginning of the night and found it was already made. When had he left?

Emma grew increasingly bitter when Pomfrey reluctantly released her to go make the Wolfsbane Potion. Her bitterness grew even more as she snuck through the castle, her robe thrown on over top of Greyson's clothes that she didn't bother to change out of. She stopped in the dorms to take a quick shower and change into clothes that were definitely were _not_ Slytherin colors. How dare he leave without saying a word.

Stepping into the Potion's classroom felt almost like a slap in the face when it felt just like any other day. It was back to the same silence they had grown used to sharing, music playing softly from somewhere in the room. Soleil, who was usually quick to snap, was annoyingly settled and tried to tell Emma to wait and not act rash. It was so unlike the wolfish side of her that it agitated Emma further. Emma wanted to ask what Greyson's sudden problem was, but she couldn't find her voice to ask. Maybe she had read into things more than she thought, and perhaps Greyson did as well. Maybe they were both just confused, thrilled at finding someone who could understand them in a way that others couldn't.

Emma decided it would make sense if she had just been confused. She was emotional over Elara, exhausted from the full moon, and just wanted to be far away. Emma wanted to be curled up at home in her own bed where everything was safe. But what of Greyson? He didn't act as though she wasn't there, but he was quiet and subdued. Perhaps there was a flicker of worry in his gaze when their eyes would meet across the room, but he still didn't speak to her.

Even still, as confused as Emma felt she suddenly was, she realized one thing that she had to do. After avoiding the idea, Emma decided that she needed to finally end things with George. At first, Emma blamed it on her night with Greyson, but she didn't even feel _too_ guilty about kissing him. To have someone _finally_ show her an ounce of appreciation made her realize that she wouldn't get that with George. George was wonderful, but his sudden avoidance of her left her reeling. Whatever they had started to create the year before had fizzled out as quickly as it began. Emma had questioned if their relationship had been fear-based on what had happened to her, and she was starting to feel that way more and more. She was more willing to just let things end naturally, but it wasn't fair to just say _nothing_ even though she wanted to.

Emma approached the situation of breaking up with George, nervous and unsure, and decided it was best to just get it out of the way. She ate a hastily eaten breakfast, ignoring the way Greyson's gaze followed her as she made her way to the Gryffindor table. Emma gave George a firm tap on the shoulder with a shaky smile asking to talk to him privately. Even though she knew that it needed to happen, she still felt sick to her stomach. She didn't plan to tell George about what she'd done – it wasn't as though it mattered, not really.

As they walked, Emma found herself reciting her entire speech in her head about how they weren't working. She wanted to tell George that she felt that their relationship was built out of them both being scared, and they were much better friends. They had fun together, had healthy competition, but the lack of communication made her feel like he didn't trust her. It all sounded good, the perfect things for her to say, and she swore she would handle it without crying. As emotional as she was, it was doable.

Tucked into the relative safety of one of the hallways off the entrance hall, Emma turned herself to face George. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, George spoke first.

"Emma, this isn't working."

Emma certainly wasn't expecting that to come out of George's mouth, and her mind went blank. She blinked owlishly at George, opening and closing her mouth several times before clamping her mouth shut. She set out to break up with George, not the other way around. _What the fuck?_

"You're…you're distant," George said in explanation when Emma didn't say a word. "I know you've got a lot going on, but you don't _talk_ to me. You'd rather talk to someone else that isn't me, and I feel like you keep pushing me to the side."

That was a complete lie, and Emma knew it, and the nerves that had settled in her stomach were replaced with anger. If she thought she was angry with Greyson from earlier, she was even more furious with George. She talked to George…not the same way she talked to Justin or Cedric, for that matter, but it wasn't like she didn't speak to George. The issue was George didn't talk to _her_. She had spent hours just talking about her day to George, but he seemed to barely listen to her.

"George, I don't…I don't understand what you mean," Emma said slowly. "I talk to you."

"But it's not the same," George said, sounded broken. "If something happens, you always go to Justin or Cedric first."

"We're in the _same_ house," Emma replied. "I can't help that Gryffindor tower is halfway across the school. Yes, I'll tell them first because I see them more, but I tell you the exact same things, just a little later."

"But you don't tell me _everything_."

Emma could never deny that because up until Greyson, she had never told someone every little thing about herself. Greyson could understand because they were the same, even in their differences. It wasn't like she could tell George everything about Fenrir – it wouldn't make sense – and he only commented about fighting Fenrir, which did no good. She was aggravated that George was _jealous_ that she talked to other people. It wasn't like _he_ told her everything as he avoided telling her what was so important about the parchment he was pouring over with Fred.

"I tell you as much as I possibly can, I don't really know what you want me to say."

"But you don't tell me everything."

"You don't tell me everything either, George. That's not fair."

"You don't even give me a chance to help you," George said, changing tactics. "You get angry with me if I try."

"I don't get angry with you," Emma snapped.

"You're getting angry with me now!"

"Because I have asked you every single day what's wrong, and you haven't said a word!"

"Because what was the point? Even if I somehow managed to get you to talk, you would still go running off to Justin."

"Because he's one of my _best friends_!"

"And what am I supposed to be?"

Emma pressed her hands into her eye sockets until she saw different colors behind her eyelids with a growl. How was this devolving so fast? She had plans! She had an entire speech she wanted to say! But she had been so completely and utterly derailed that she didn't even know what to do any longer.

"You know what," Emma said, pulling her hands away to level George with an aggravated stare. "You know what? You're right. This isn't working. I already knew it wasn't working, but _this_ really tells me that things aren't working."

"That's it? You're not even going to fight?"

Emma let out a disbelieving breath. Was George serious right now?

"I don't know what you want me to say, George," Emma snapped. "If you're going to be jealous about who I talk to, then it's obviously not going to work. Makes me feel a bit shit that you're trying to make me feel guilty because you're not the only person I talk to."

George stared at Emma for a long moment before nodding, almost to himself.

"Guess that's it then," he said quietly. He opened his mouth to say something else before closing it and walking away without another word.

 _That was it?_ Emma could only scoff, crossing her arms as she watched George's back as he departed. That was single-handedly one of the most unfulfilling things Emma had ever done, and she didn't even get a chance to say anything she wanted. It wasn't a good speech by any means, but it was a speech, and she had planned to say it. George had utterly blindsided her by beating her to breaking up, and it was _shit_. She swore to herself that she wouldn't cry, but she wanted to out of sheer frustration.

Emma had no idea why she was at all surprised to find Greyson suddenly at the end of the hallway, hands jammed into his pockets. His expression was equal parts curious and concerned, and Emma, in her aggravation, shot him a venomous look. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she glared at Greyson before she ultimately decided to push past him, storming onto the grounds. The castle, and Greyson, felt too stifling, and she hoped that being outside would make her feel a little better.

Emma stomped down to her tree by the lake, dropped to the ground hard on her bottom, and slammed her back up against the tree trunk. She folded her arms over her chest, glaring at the squid's tentacle over the top of the water, her breathing coming out in frustrated puffs. Emma's day was not going to plan, and she wasn't even entirely sure how she wanted it to go.

What did she really expect? Did she expect to wake up still pressed up against Greyson, her head resting on his chest like when she fell asleep? Did she expect to wake up with the soft press of his lips to hers or perhaps to the delicious scratch of his beard against her cheek? It was such a foolish thought for her to have, but she still craved to have him close. Her angry musings were disrupted by the subtle crunch of the dirt next to her being disturbed and warmth against her arm.

"Oh my God," Emma huffed when she turned to head to scowl at the very object of her thoughts. "I didn't think someone could possibly be more aggravating than my father, and here you are." Greyson's face twisted slightly in annoyance, and he rolled his eyes at her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her, his tone soft.

"Aggravated," Emma murmured, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around her knees. She wanted to make herself as small as possible, preferably far away from Greyson, but she had a feeling he would follow. Emma kept her eyes glued to the giant squid's tentacles and ignored the chattering Bowtruckle even when they slowly made their way down the trunk to greet her.

"Why?"

"Because I had this whole speech to give while breaking up with George, and he broke up with me instead."

"And that bothers you?"

"Yes! Because I was meant to be breaking up with him and not the other way around! I was meant to be doing the breaking up, not be broken up with."

"Were you just breaking up with George because of last night or –?"

"It wasn't just because of last night, you idiot," Emma said, casting Greyson another aggravated look. "And don't you dare ask me if I regretted last night, because I don't. You made me realize I should have done it days ago…"

Emma fell silent, trying to resist the urge to lean against Greyson. As usual, he smelled wonderful, and Emma wanted to be close, but she was angry with him, too. Greyson had been weird with her all morning, left the hospital wing without a word, and now he was trying to talk to her? How much more annoying could he be?

"I had a thought this morning while you were still sleeping," Greyson said softly into the silence. "I have an interview next week to tutor a student here. The only information that I was given from Severus was that it's for a student from a wealthy family, and cost would not be an issue. I was also informed that said student is known to be a bit of a problem, and I would be working with them before the interview but not know who they are. I found myself wondering – while being entranced by you sleeping, might I add – but I found myself wondering if that student is meant to be you."

Emma's hardened expression softened minutely as she cast Greyson a sidelong glance. Was _that_ why he was weird that morning? She studied him out of the corner of her eye and then nodded.

"Oh, bugger me sideways," Greyson hissed, eyes growing wide. "Please tell me that you're joking."

"Bit of a problem?" Emma asked, turning her head to look at Greyson, her brows furrowing at his look of distress.

"More than a bit," Greyson sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. "Things were already complicated as it is, but this makes it even worse. Did you even realize that it was supposed to be me who was interviewing for the position?"

"I knew about the whole finding a tutor thing, but it didn't occur to me right away that it would be _you_ ," Emma said. "Persephone was the one who pointed it out, and then the more I thought about it, the more I realized it made sense. It's the exact sort of thing Snape would do to get under my skin."

"And did it?"

"In more ways than one," Emma said with a mischievous glint in her eye. She couldn't help her giggle at the exasperated look on Greyson's face and cleared her throat, trying to be more serious. "I already told you that Snape has a grudge against my fathers, but he has one against me as well. I'm not surprised that he would try to use you as a weapon against me, and I'm sorry about that, but somewhere along the way, that changed. I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want it to matter. Is that why you were trying to act like nothing had happened?"

"I didn't want to be right," Greyson replied. "I can't be here as your tutor and then want to…"

"Want to what?"

"Have more nights like last night with you," Greyson said quietly. "I have no idea how it would work."

Emma's stomach did a pleasurable squirm at Greyson's words while Soleil, hazy as ever, happily danced on all four paws. She was relieved to know that she worried for no reason and that Greyson _wanted_ more nights with her. Heat settled low in her belly at the possibility of what more nights could imply, and she carefully shifted her legs to a new position. _Down, girl, down_ , Emma thought to herself to Soleil's barking amusement.

"Well," Emma said slowly, leaning in closer towards Greyson, "I suppose it's a good thing that there's a week until your interview, then. And since I'm now officially single, and you're not actually staff, and you're technically still a student while getting your Mastery…I don't see why we couldn't take the next week to figure things out. You know…figure out how things could work." A sly grin crossed Emma's face as she adjusted herself to sit up on her knees to be on Greyson's level.

"Besides, who said that I'm even going to hire you, anyway?" she asked, her smile widening at Greyson's mock offense. "After all, your interview will be with me, Mr. Fenmore. Consider your interview starting now. Ought to make sure you put your best foot forward." Emma took a quick look around to make sure no one was nearby. When she was satisfied that they were alone, she leaned forward to kiss Greyson with a content sigh. "I'm not that easily impressed," she whispered against his lips.

After a lengthy discussion out by the lake, they agreed to give things a try. They were both curious to know if there was more to their feelings. Ordinarily, Emma would want to spend her day in bed, but instead, she found herself spending her day with Greyson. It was easy for her to make up an excuse as to why she was suddenly spending her time with him. Everyone knew of her love of potions, and it didn't seem odd to the Hufflepuffs when she said she had somewhere else to be. The only person who seemed to pick up on the oddness of the situation was Persephone.

Persephone gave Emma a curious look when she walked into the Great Hall with Greyson, a disbelieving smile on her face. Emma only shrugged in response, running a hand through her hair. She hoped that it wasn't still messy from Greyson's hands tangling in it, and Emma was glad that it was short so she could make things less obvious. Persephone kept her eyes locked on Emma as she sat down with the other Hufflepuffs. Her eyebrows raised as Greyson's hand lifted to squeeze Emma's shoulder before heading to the staff tables. Emma returned Persephone's curious look with a smug smile and a half-shrug.

Greyson seemed to take Emma's comment about not being easily impressed as a personal challenge. On Sunday morning, when Emma walked into the Potion's classroom beyond exhausted, he had a gift for her. Sitting where she usually worked was a brand-new cauldron wrapped with a bow and a new potions kit sitting beside it.

"Happy birthday," Greyson said, leaning against the nearby table with a smile. His smile faltered slightly seeing how tired she looked, and he put a steadying hand on her upper arm.

"Greyson? What is all this?" Emma asked with wide eyes. "Happy birthday?" she repeated in question.

"Belated birthday present," Greyson explained with a shrug. "It looked like you set up your scales for the first time on your birthday, so I figured they were new. For what you do, it only made sense to have everything updated."

"This is…this is too much," Emma said, peering quickly into the wooden box full of shiny vials and mixing cups. She didn't want to know how much everything cost, especially for an entirely new setup. None of it was second-hand, which Emma never minded, and everything practically glittered just to show off how new it was. It was too much, and she could very well afford it all herself if she wanted to. Emma was okay with everything she had already, and though she _really_ liked the idea of having new things, she didn't feel that she deserved it. She was perfectly content with borrowing a cauldron for the next month and picking up a new one in Hogsmeade the next month.

"Emma, you can't continue working on potions with the bare minimum in equipment," Greyson said lightly. "You would have needed to upgrade at some point regardless. Consider your cauldron melting a blessing in disguise, and I wanted to do this for you. I told you, talent like yours shouldn't be wasted. Besides, I can't return any of it, so you're just going to have to use it."

Emma met Greyson's gaze, completely speechless. He turned her attention to the cauldron that had her initials etched into the rim, and she let out a disbelieving breath. Greyson was determined to make sure that she couldn't protest his gift as the potion's kit had a plaque with her initials on the front. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth at Greyson's gentle urging to _really_ look in the potion's kit.

Curious, Emma cracked open the wooden box and frowned slightly. Everything seemed like it belonged, fresh ingredients in very full bottles and empty bottles for her to fill as she pleased lining one side of the box. However, there was one bottle in the box that pulled Emma's attention.

Tucked in the corner where she would possibly miss it was a bottle with a wax-sealed stopper and a massive label with just her name on it surrounded by drawn-in stars. The writing on the label didn't match the other ingredient labels, and she realized it was something of Greyson's creation. She took a moment to take in his neat, looping script before picking up the bottle to turn it around to look at its contents.

If Emma hadn't realized it before, she would have said that was the exact moment she started to fall in love with Greyson. In the vial, suspended in water, was a shrunk down stalk of a yellow lupin flower. It felt so incredibly unfair that he would give her a gift like this when she was already so emotional, and she was grateful Snape left them alone in the mornings. She looked up at Greyson, embarrassed by the tears in her eyes.

"It's just in case you need a reminder of who you are," Greyson said, pulling Emma close so that he could hug her from behind. He dropped a soft kiss to the spot near her temple, and Emma melted back against Greyson with a sigh. "With how many names you've had, I'm sure it's easy to forget sometimes."

Emma already hated full moon days more than anything, but she hated her first one at Hogwarts without Remus even more. When Emma woke up Monday morning, she was _tired_. It seemed stupid that she would be at the castle, and Remus was once again forced to go to the Ministry for his twenty-four-hour stay. She still didn't understand why he was forced to lose an entire day for only one night, but Remus went. The only thing that made her feel better was knowing he would be with Elara. They were still working on figuring out how to get her out of the same cells Remus was forced into when he was arrested. Her trial wouldn't be for months, and it was stupid to keep her there for so long. Still, Emma refused to allow herself to think about it lest she add to her emotional turmoil.

The irony was not lost on Emma that she had spent the past two full moons with Fenrir, and now she was spending it with his son. Of course, that first summer holiday moon didn't really count, but he was around before and after. She counted it only to remind herself that he attacked her and that every good thing he did for her didn't matter if he could still hurt her. Between her frustrated tears of exhaustion, Emma found herself giggling stupidly while working on the Wolfsbane Potion. Emma was glad that she already had the conversation about Fenrir with Greyson because she wasn't sure she could handle it in her current state.

The idea that Greyson could make her so happy seemed ludicrous every time she thought of who his father was. It just didn't fit in her mind that the most savage werewolf of all time had the sweetest possible son in the world. Greyson was cunning and sharp, but he had such a hidden softness that made Emma melt time and time again. He seemed unreal, the product of her wildest imaginations, but Greyson was very much real, and Emma hoped that he could be hers. Funny how that happened…

She was silently grateful that Professor Sprout gave her permission to skip that morning's Herbology class due to the full moon. Emma took a much longer shower than usual after brewing that morning to relax her sore muscles. Just like every other month, she found herself thinking about how she wanted _someone_ to bite her just to make the lead up to the full moon easier. She didn't relish the idea of her bones shattering into pieces and turning into a wolf, but sometimes it still felt like it would be easier.

Emma had to practically drag herself up to the Great Hall for breakfast. She wanted to just skip eating until lunch, but Remus would have her head if he found out she didn't try to eat something. Emma mentally prepared herself for the knowing looks she would get when she stepped into the room, but she wasn't prepared for what actually happened.

She had clearly set foot into the Great Hall just a few minutes too late. Greyson was holding onto a furious Justin, and Cedric held onto Ernie, who was sporting a very bloody nose. Snape, who had the unfortunate job of breakfast duty, was yelling at the both of them. Emma searched for Persephone, who grimaced in response at her questioning look. With a groan, Emma took in the faces of the other Hufflepuffs, who looked equally horrified as they spotted her. She flinched when she noticed Snape had spotted her as well, his lip curling in disgust.

"Lupin!" Snape snarled.

"What?" Emma snapped, aggravated that Snape was going to yell at her for something she wasn't even there for. What had even happened?

"Detention! Tonight!"

Emma immediately began to splutter. He _had_ to be joking, but Severus Snape wasn't someone who made jokes.

"I didn't do anything!" Emma shouted in indignation.

"You are the reason these two idiots were fighting, so therefore – you will be joining them in detention."

"But it's the full moon tonight!"

"And you are not a werewolf, so therefore you will be serving your detention with Mr. Fenmore tonight at seven. If I hear any more complaints, you can make it all week. Do I make myself plain?"

Emma nearly started to complain just to have an excuse to spend more time with Greyson, but he gave her a look that told her not to. She clamped her mouth shut, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from saying another word, and nodded. Soleil wasn't happy about her not saying a word, but she was just sleepy enough from the Wolfsbane to not put up too much of a fight. She sat down awkwardly at the Hufflepuff table away from everyone else, not wanting to deal with whatever had happened. Sprout came shuffling into the room, already yelling at Justin and Ernie; Greyson and Cedric still holding on to the boys still trying to fight. Caspian took the time to make his way over to Emma.

"What happened, and why was I responsible?" Emma asked Caspian, keeping her head ducked as she tried to eat.

"Well, you remember how you were telling Cedric that you melted your cauldron the other day?"

"Yeah?"

"Ernie was the one who did it."

Emma's head snapped up to look at Caspian in surprise. She had wondered if he had something to do with it when Greyson mentioned someone possibly altering her potion, but she had hoped…

"Ernie did it?" Emma asked in disbelief. Caspian nodded, shoving more food on Emma's plate, humming to himself as he debated what she should eat.

"Slipped extra lionfish spine into your potion like Greyson had mentioned," Caspian said, shoving a fork into Emma's hand. "Eat," Caspian added pointedly. "Anyway, Ernie was bragging about it this morning, thrilled that you finally messed up during class. He had been waiting for a moment for you to not pay attention and levitated – I think he said – three over and in your potion. It was perfect because the Ravenclaws just pay attention to what they're working on and had no idea what was happening. Justin obviously wasn't too happy about it. They might be best friends, but it didn't stop Justin from full-on punching Ernie in the face."

Emma had to force herself to eat, no longer hungry at all. She refused to look at anyone, embarrassed that Justin would feel the need to punch Ernie for ruining her potion in class. It had been terrible when it happened, but Emma had gotten over it until the thought was fresh in her mind.

Her mood was sour for the entire day, even with her extra time to sleep courtesy of Professor Sprout. She had hoped that her nap before Care of Magical Creatures would help, but it did nothing for her. Emma took a few minutes to write to Sirius in her notebook before even giving up on that to try and make herself feel better. She was just glad that Sirius was still sticking around for as long as he was.

Not knowing how the night would go, Emma practically begged Harry to let her have the Marauder's Map at lunch. She had to remind him that they decided to have shared custody of the map and her needs were much bigger than his right then. If she had to hide from the rest of the Hufflepuffs for the night because it was the full moon, Emma needed to know where to go. She wasn't going to leave anything to chance that night, and Harry reluctantly pulled the map out of his bag.

"Don't plan anything around the full moon," Emma said pointedly, shoving the map into her bag. "You can have it every other time."

Harry didn't seem too thrilled with that, Emma but didn't care. She was petulant and selfish in her aggravation, but Moony and Padfoot came before Prongs on the map. The map was more her father's legacies than his as far as she was concerned, but she was too much of a Hufflepuff.

Seven o'clock came far too quickly for Emma's liking and the increasing nearness of the full moon. She shot Greyson a look before plunking down heavily onto one of the stools in the classroom, pressing her head to the table. Emma had expected Snape to be present, but it appeared he was taking care of Justin and Ernie's detentions elsewhere.

"What stupid shit is Snip Snop expecting me to do?" Emma grumbled as Greyson sat down next to her. Everything hurt – her head, her back, her limbs…All she wanted to do was sleep or at least be in bed lying down. She relaxed slightly at the warm press of Greyson's hand rubbing the sore spot between her shoulder blades.

"You're not doing anything," Greyson said gently. "He wants you to, but I'm not going to sit here and be complicit in making you suffer any more than you already are. I knew that you were going to feel unwell because you told me, but I didn't realize it was this bad."

"Hmm," Emma hummed softly, turning her head to look over at Greyson. "This is my reality every month. Regretting things yet?"

"No," Greyson whispered, his knuckles brushing against Emma's cheek. "This isn't fair to you."

"Greyson, please," Emma said with a slight whine. "I can't handle you being nice to me right now. Just tell me what Snape expects me to do."

"Well, you know Severus, and now that I realize the extent of what he'll do just to make you miserable…"

Emma groaned in understanding. "How are there already cauldrons that need to be cleaned? It's the beginning of the year."

"The first years this year seem to be, er…a bit of a mess. Not all of their parents chose to buy them the correct cauldrons for first year work, and more cauldrons than usual have been borrowed."

"And Snape wants them all cleaned by hand," Emma said, feeling even less amused than before as Greyson nodded. "Well, best I get started."

"Emma, you don't have to do this. I'll do it."

"It's not worth having Snape get pissed at you, too," Emma said, slowly lifting herself from her chair. "It's fine. I actually like cleaning cauldrons."

As the night wore on, it was most definitely _not_ fine, which seemed par for the course in Emma's life lately. Emma genuinely enjoyed cleaning cauldrons any other time, but it was miserable when the shooting pains from the full moon started. An embarrassed flush crossed her face as she nearly dropped the cauldron she was working on and pulled a thinly veiled look of worry from Greyson. She accepted him helping her, but she genuinely wasn't sure she could handle him being any nicer than he already was. All she wanted was relief from the pain, but she wasn't sure it would be possible with no werewolf around to help. She wasn't about to ask Greyson to try and help her in that regard because she didn't want to be disappointed if he wasn't half-werewolf enough to offer that relief.

Around nine-thirty, about an hour and a half after moonrise, Emma couldn't take the pain anymore. She had been able to get through by breathing through the shooting pains and trying to focus on Greyson's endless rambling to try and distract her. It wasn't impossible to get through, but it was difficult. The repetitive motions of cleaning cauldrons didn't help, and she burst into tears at the sudden flare of fire in her very bones.

"I can't keep doing this to you," Greyson said resolutely, pulling the cauldron Emma had aside and waving his wand to clean the other cauldrons. "I already feel like an absolute knob head for letting you do this much. Come on, you're done."

"Snape's going to know they weren't done by hand," Emma protested, wiping her face with her sleeve and reaching for the cauldron that Greyson pulled further away.

"He'll get over it," Greyson said, tugging Emma up from her chair. "Can you make it back to the dorms or no?"

"I don't know," Emma murmured, feeling her face heat up as she sniffled and tried to stop her tears. She couldn't look at Greyson, knowing the look he would already have on his face. He was quiet for a long moment, and Emma only looked up at him, startled by his aggravated growl.

"Fuck it," he said, grabbing Emma's bag and taking her hand. "You're staying with me tonight. My room's just down the hall, and I'll come up for an excuse for you in the morning if I have to."

Emma didn't have the time to question Greyson as he pulled her along behind him. Soleil stirred just enough in Emma's mind to point out that Greyson holding her hand provided a small sense of comfort. The wolf also pointed out that Greyson was taking her to _his room_ and not bringing her back upstairs. That was an unexpected step, and Emma was torn between being very nervous and excited. She was sure they would be breaking about a hundred school rules, but she had the map in her possession.

She had seen Greyson annoyed before, but Emma had never seen him angry. When he closed the door to his room with a resolute thud, Emma couldn't pull her eyes away from his face. It gave her pause to see an expression so familiar and yet so foreign on Greyson's face. Her surprise must have shown as Greyson's face immediately fell in realization.

"I'm so sorry," Greyson said quickly, looking panicked. "I looked –"

"Don't say it," Emma said, cutting Greyson off. She closed the space between them, reaching up to pull his face between her hands. "You are not your father, and I've told you that repeatedly. I just wasn't expecting you to get so angry."

"Because it's _not fair_ ," Greyson said, pulling Emma's hands away from his face to hold them in his hands. "You shouldn't have to suffer the way you do. I don't understand where you pull your strength from because I could never do it."

"If I don't, then I don't move forward," Emma said. "I don't have a choice. I wake up and just have to get through it."

Greyson sighed, kissing Emma's forehead and frowning. "God, you are burning up," he muttered. "Come on, let's get you into bed."

Emma took a moment to take a look around the room. She always enjoyed the rooms in the dungeons as the windows opened up to the lake. It worried her that one day the windows might break and the water would come spilling in, but there were so many magical reinforcements in place. She enjoyed watching the lake creatures going by, and even the fish, both Muggle and magical. Nature always seemed to be the one place where both worlds seemed to easily collide, learning how to live with each other.

The room Greyson was in was a small suite. Everything was within reach and wasn't too unlike her room at the Moon's; a large bed, small sitting area, and an en-suite bathroom. There were little touches of Greyson scattered around the room, his suitcase sitting near the dresser, his belongings strewn about. She smiled when she noticed that he had brought his own blanket along with him, a dark blue quilt that looked very well-loved. His robes hung up on the coat stand near the door, and she brushed her hand over his tan overcoat sitting adjacent to his robes.

"Here," Greyson said, pulling Emma out of her musings as he stood in front of her with pajamas for her. "I'm sure I packed extras of everything, so if you need to take a shower or anything…" He let the words sit out in the open, and Emma felt herself blush.

"Oh," she said softly, taking his pajamas. "I just realized I haven't given you back what you let me borrow in the hospital wing."

"Don't worry about it," Greyson said. "It's fine."

Emma wasn't planning to take another shower that day, but she did if only to ease her aches and pains once more. It wasn't much, but it calmed the dull throb in her very bones just enough to get her back out into the main room. As she stepped out into the suite, she felt very much covered in Greyson's scent from borrowing his shampoo and body wash and wearing his clothes. She was also very aware that this was very new territory and had no idea what to do. Soleil delighted in it, and Emma could practically see the wolf wanting to rub herself on every inch of his scent.

"Take the bed," Greyson said, looking up from his book from his spot on the sofa. "I'll just stay here tonight."

"You don't have to," Emma said quietly, cringing slightly the moment the words left her lips. "I just mean the bed is big enough. And I, uhm…"

"You what?"

"I usually sleep better with someone else when it's a full moon night, but you don't have to," Emma said hurriedly. "I know it's weird." She gestured vaguely to his bed before awkwardly sidestepping towards it. "I'll be fine."

"Well, if it makes things easier for you," Greyson said after Emma settled herself awkwardly in Greyson's bed. He hesitated for a moment before setting his book down and crossing the room to sit next to her. Greyson was equally as unsure as Emma, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked at her. "Where do you want me?"

"Next to me," Emma whispered. "Like the other night, if that's all right."

Greyson nodded, slipping under the blankets and holding his arms open so that Emma could settle herself next to him. She looked at him uncertainly for a moment, debating whether or not it would be okay, but then curled herself into his side. The relief was instantaneous, and she let out a long breath in contentment. Whatever lycanthropy Greyson had soothed the worst of her symptoms. Apparently, half-werewolves offered the same relief, and Emma felt infinitely better in Greyson's arms. Soleil lamented the absence of the rest of the pack, wanting to be with Moony, but she was overjoyed at being so close to Greyson. Emma was too.

"I'm so sorry," Emma murmured, resting her head on Greyson's chest so she could listen to the sound of his heartbeat. "Full moon nights are difficult, and being around other werewolves offers a special type of magic when I'm next to one. It's a shared thing with werewolves, but I wasn't sure if it would be the same with you. You have no idea how much better I feel. I don't know that I'll stay up long at all."

"Don't stay up, then," Greyson said, stroking Emma's hair. "Just rest."

Emma didn't need telling twice, and she drifted off startlingly fast. She had no idea that she could feel so safe or loved being held by someone who wasn't in her immediate pack. The last person she expected to bring her such incredible peace and comfort was Greyson, and Emma feared the idea of losing it. With Greyson, her mind wasn't a constant turmoil of terrifying thoughts. While she was still scared, Greyson made her hopeful. His energy was calming and gentle and exactly what Emma thrived on. She felt as though she always needed to move. If she didn't, Emma worried she would cease to exist, but Greyson forced her to slow down. If only she had realized it sooner.

When she woke up that morning still in Greyson's arms, she felt her heart swell with the delight of still being close. But her heart broke at the idea of it not being able to last. Greyson's comment of not being able to be her tutor and be with her had struck Emma harder than she thought it would. In theory, it would be perfect to have him there all the time; he was an excellent teacher, and she would love it, but it wasn't feasible. She could already picture the jokes she would be able to make about kissing her teacher, but there were too many factors and too many challenges.

She didn't want to think about things when they had the rest of the week to get through. Emma knew that she would have to talk to Greyson again and soon but didn't want to have a harder conversation with him at all.

Emma slowly lifted her head from Greyson's chest to take in just how much light was filtering through the lake outside the window. The water still looked dark with only the stirrings of light filtering in from the sun. At the very least, Emma felt mildly rested, which meant the moon had shifted enough and the full moon had ended. She took a moment to watch the fish going by, a sigh escaping her lips as a Grindylow swam past. Emma would never like the ugly little creatures.

"'Morning," Greyson murmured sleepily.

"Oh, did I wake you?" Emma asked, a soft smile crossing her face as Greyson pressed a kiss to her hair. She had no idea what they were currently, but she loved whatever it was, and that would make the conversation they needed to have even more difficult. Could they even really be possible at all?

"No, I think I've gotten used to waking up this early," Greyson said, tightening his hold on Emma with a yawn. He hummed sleepily, adding a soft kiss to her forehead. "And this is a problem."

"What is?"

"Waking up to you still being here because I could get used to this," Greyson said.

Emma worried her lip between her teeth, her heart fit to burst at his words. She could very well get used to it, too, and wanted to, but she slowly sat up, pulling herself away from Greyson. She didn't want to have a difficult conversation with him so early in the morning, but she couldn't wait.

"Greyson, I think we really need to talk," Emma said quietly. "Really _really_ need to talk." Greyson seemed like he had been waiting for Emma to say precisely that as he didn't seem surprised at all. He studied her for a moment before sitting up as well.

"I know," he whispered.

What came of their conversation was a whirlwind type of romance that Emma didn't think she would ever get to experience in her life. They decided to continue exactly as they were, being together with no conditions. While they had no definitive title to what they were just yet, it didn't matter. They accepted that there was, for the moment, a time limit to what they had, and they were going to take advantage of it.

Their relationship seemed to be built on stealing what they wanted. It was stolen glances across the Great Hall, stolen kisses in quiet hallways, stolen moments wherever they could find them, and most of all, stolen time.

After worrying about others for so long, Emma found it freeing to do something for herself and not worry about the repercussions. She wanted Greyson, and he wanted her, and that wasn't something Emma was willing to ignore for a single moment.

With Marauder's Map in hand, Emma inadvertently pulled Greyson into her pack, and Soleil was overjoyed. They explored and adventured in the exact way Remus wandered with Sirius. The map's secret was safe with Greyson, and he was fascinated to learn how much there was to the castle. He was just as interested in exploring the castle with her as he was in finding just how many places they could kiss. Emma was more than happy to do both.

When she found herself slipping out of the dorms and to Greyson's room in the hours while the castle was still asleep, Emma felt exhilarated. She didn't quite expect to use Elara's gift so soon, but Emma felt there was never a more perfect time or person to share it with. When Greyson pulled her into his bed with him, Emma found herself with a life-changing revelation.

Greyson made her feel alive.

He lit her spirit from the inside out, made her feel wanted. Emma found that she was finding herself all over again. The world could try to tell her who she was, but Greyson reminded her of who she really was every moment he could. She was strong, fierce, and brilliant, and after forgetting she was all of those things, Emma believed in herself all over again.

Emma felt like she ran through every single emotion possible on Friday. She was acutely aware that morning that time was running out. Emma tried to put on a brave face throughout the day, but it was hard. Time was ticking, but for the first time, Emma was _living._

Even Dr. Wheeler noticed the significant change in Emma's entire demeanor, at first startled and then pleased.

"You look happy," Dr. Wheeler commented, a soft smile on her face. "I'm pleased to see it. What put that smile on your face?"

Emma tried to hide her smile, biting her lip to try and hide it, but she couldn't. She thought about it for a long moment, wondering if she could say the words out loud and admit it to someone other than Greyson. It took her a few moments longer to mull through her thoughts, but Emma decided that she could say the words out loud. She could admit when she was wrong.

"I've met the man I'm going to marry," Emma said, her smile starting off small and unsure before growing. Uncharacteristic girlish giggles escaped her lips as she pulled her legs up onto her chair, and she covered her face to hide her pink cheeks. She had _never_ felt this way before, but her smile faded just as quickly as it came. "But it's complicated…"

Emma's heart broke a little further when she returned to the dorms to write out a quick goodnight to her fathers. It was decided that Greyson would decline his interview, but seeing it written so definitively by Remus hurt to see. Emma was sure that no one had told Remus who was supposed to interview for the job, and a part of her felt guilty not telling him. It was even worse for her to tell Remus that it wasn't worth trying to look for a different candidate. No one was going to be better than Greyson.

She waited as long as she could for the other girls in the dorm to fall asleep, observing the Marauder's Map. Emma watched Greyson pacing on the map with a slight frown, and she watched to see when the common room emptied out. The moment she saw the last person slip out of the common room, Emma was on her feet, pulling on her boots, and rushing to Greyson's room. She didn't even get a chance to finish knocking before Greyson pulled her into his room and into his arms.

"I'm leaving early tomorrow," Greyson said, squeezing Emma tight. "Before breakfast."

Emma had already figured that's what Greyson would do, and she nodded, not sure that she could speak. She didn't want to say anything just yet, wasn't sure what she would say. Time had moved much too fast for her liking, and even though it wasn't the end, she worried. At least within the castle's walls, there was safety for what they had.

"Hey, look at me," Greyson said softly when Emma didn't respond. She reluctantly lifted her head to meet Greyson's gaze. "We said that we would figure this out. This isn't the end – this is nowhere near the end, it's just the beginning…if you want it to be."

"Why did you just make it sound like you were proposing to me?" Emma asked in amusement.

"Well, preferably that's sometime in the future, but for the time being, it might be worth taking the time to make this real," Greyson said softly. He reached behind his back to pull one of Emma's hands forward, bringing it up to his lips to kiss and smiling. "If you've already fired me from the job I didn't get to even interview for, at least be my girlfriend."

Emma wanted desperately to say yes, the word on the tip of her tongue, but that wasn't what left her mouth.

"I need time," Emma whispered. "I can't…Greyson, I don't want to put you in a position where you can get hurt, too. You know what I need to do…"

"Don't do it," Greyson said, struggling to keep the pleading out of his voice. "You are worth so much more."

"Greyson, please," Emma begged. "Please don't make tonight harder than it already is. I don't want this conversation to be the last one we have. I just want to enjoy being with you one more night without conditions."

It was both the longest and shortest night of her life. Emma felt stupid when she stepped foot in the Great Hall the next morning, automatically looking for Greyson. She knew he wasn't there, but it had become a habit once again, and she sat near the end of the Hufflepuff table feeling dejected. The moment she was done eating, she wanted to hide for a little while.

"Where's Greyson?" Persephone asked, leaving the Slytherin table to sit next to Emma.

"He left already," Emma said simply.

"Why?" Persephone questioned, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. She looked up at the staff table as if she didn't believe Emma. "I thought you two were finally getting along."

"We were," Emma said, trying to be subtle about rubbing her eyes. Persephone was quiet for a long moment, studying Emma.

"Oh, Emma…" Persephone said softly in understanding. "You –"

"It doesn't matter what I did or didn't do," Emma said, cutting Persephone off. She didn't want to hear what she already knew. "He's gone, it would be too dangerous, and that's all there is to it." Emma was about to say something else to Persephone, but McGonagall stopped next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Miss Lupin, I just thought you should know that you'll have a visitor tonight at six in my office," she said.

A visitor? A frown crossed Emma's face, and she nodded, unsure of who would come to see her. She sincerely hoped that Remus didn't immediately find another candidate to interview to be her tutor because she no longer wanted one. McGonagall gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and went on her way, and Emma sighed. She stared down at her half-eaten plate and shook her head.

"I've got too much work to do today," Emma said, leaving the table to head back into the dorms.

She hadn't felt the need to sequester herself in her bed in what felt like ages. Emma knew that September wasn't even over, but it felt like months had passed by already. Everything had felt like a fairytale, one written just for her, and she already regretted telling Greyson she needed time. She didn't _want_ time, but she needed him to be safe. Greyson didn't entirely understand, but he agreed. Emma knew she had to let him go, but she felt they would always find each other no matter what. She just hoped it would happen sooner rather than later.

Much like everything else that week, the time to head to McGonagall's office came too quickly. Emma knocked on McGonagall's office door and took a deep breath when the door partially opened by itself. She had no idea who was on the other side of the door, and she _really_ wasn't expecting who was sitting in front of McGonagall's desk. Emma closed the door behind her, sucking in a sharp breath as she met Remus's gaze. It took one good look at her father to realize just how stupid she had been.

 _He. Knew._ _Everything_.

Emma could never truly keep anything from her father; he always knew even if he didn't tell her. She had no idea why she felt that this would be any different. Remus had always been able to read her easier than anyone else.

Remus's expression was difficult for Emma to decipher right away. It was stuck somewhere between resigned and concerned. He searched Emma's face before sighing, standing up from his chair.

"Come here, baby girl," he said softly, opening his arms open for her.

Emma wasted no time running over to Remus and hugging him tightly with a dry sob. She didn't realize how much she needed one of his hugs. She had missed his tight bear hugs and the way he held her close. Except it only made Emma feel even more stupid. She knew that she could tell him anything, but she had said nothing. Emma tried not to think about it and closed her eyes tightly, gripping tight to Remus's jumper.

"You fell in love with Greyson, didn't you?" Remus asked her softly, and Emma tensed up.

"How did you know?" Emma asked.

Remus pulled away and brushed Emma's hair back with both of his hands. He kissed her forehead and took her hands in his, bending to be level with her.

"Sweetheart, I've seen you fall in love before," Remus said. "I knew two weeks ago, but I was waiting for you to say something to me."

"You knew then? I didn't even know then," Emma said with a frown. "How did you even know it was Greyson?"

"There was no other logical explanation for you being so angry," Remus said, giving Emma a knowing smile. "That and you refused to tell me who it was that was bothering you. It didn't take much for me to put things together."

"You're not upset?" Emma asked, a nervous tremble in her voice. Remus's expression softened further, and he pulled Emma back into his arms.

"I have my concerns, but we can talk about it more later," Remus said softly, dropping a kiss to the top of Emma's head. "That's not why I'm here, though."

"Why are you here, then?"

"To see you, of course," Remus chuckled. "And there's a certain silver-haired someone just dying to see you in Hogsmeade." Emma looked up at Remus quickly, her eyes growing wide.

"Elle was let out?" Emma asked breathlessly.

"Elle was let out," Remus confirmed with a smile. "Go and get yourself a bag packed and come back here. You're spending the weekend with us – _all_ of us. I think we all have a lot to talk about."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did that seem like a whirlwind to you, too? Good. It was meant to. Want one shots of their time together? They're coming, I swear - but what parts would you like to see? I'm curious because I could write so many.
> 
> Also listened to far too many love songs writing this chapter.
> 
> To all of my late night readers, please go to sleep. I love you, and goodnight!
> 
> Also, omg I forgot to add this - so I apologize to whoever misses this: I started a guide to the series!
> 
> Want to see how I envision everyone? I've got A TON of character portraits up already! Want to know why my Discord simps for Greyback? Now you can find out ahahaha [The Moonlit Series Guide](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28424364/chapters/71132244)
> 
> **come find me on:**   
>  [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/mymoonyandstars)   
>  [facebook](https://www.facebook.com/mymoonyandstars)   
>  [the moonlit stars discord](https://discord.gg/DtrKMhaTHR)
> 
> [spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/r6xi6203vwza01epk6askwk15?si=t4wwYBERRymTJvw09FJG3Q)  
> 


	42. Together Again

Emma had expected Remus to take her to one of the pubs to stay in, but they made their way to a guest house instead. She had no idea that a few houses in the village were designed for guests who didn't want to stay in the castle, but it made sense. It was tucked further into Hogsmeade, a little further away from the residents, and offered the perfect amount of privacy. For just a little while, they could all be a family again, and Emma was overjoyed. She was more than content with being close to Remus on the walk through the village, but she was overcome with joy when they stepped into the house.

The moment the front door of the house closed, Emma didn't bother to hold back her shriek of delight at the massive black dog bounding her way. She didn't even care that Padfoot knocked her over and onto the ground, taking Remus along with her as he failed miserably in catching her.

"'Lo, pumpkin!" Sirius said when he transformed back, pulling Emma into his arms and squeezing tightly. "Didn't mean to knock you over, love."

"Don't care," Emma muttered into Sirius's shoulder and giggling at Remus's sigh of exasperation just behind her. How could she care when she was so happy?

"You could have at least waited until she was somewhere softer, Pads," Remus sighed.

"I think it would take more than a fall on a wood floor to take our girl completely out of commission."

Emma pulled herself away from Sirius so quickly, going completely breathless.

"Elle," Emma half-whispered as she met Elara's soft brown eyes. She scrambled up quickly from the floor, practically launching herself into Elara's arms with a broken cry.

"Don't you dare cry on me, Emma Hope," Elara said softly, gently rocking Emma side to side in her arms. "I'm fine. We're all fine."

"I didn't think –"

"Shh, don't," Elara said gently. "I'm here." Elara pulled back, taking Emma's face between her hands. "Can't get rid of me that easily," she said with a wink. Elara brushed Emma's tears away with her thumbs with a soft laugh, and Emma couldn't stop her laugh in return.

"Good," Emma said, holding one of Elara's hands to her face, leaning happily into her touch. She needed this more than she thought; she needed to be reunited with her pack just to confirm they all existed. This was home – every single one of them. Emma had to bite back her sigh at Soleil's huffing in her mind. After weeks of Soleil longing to have everyone together, it felt strange that Soleil was complaining that Greyson wasn't with them, too. Emma had to admit with everyone under one roof once more, she felt he could fit in perfectly.

Emma only let go of Elara's hand and separated herself when Remus's hand came up to stroke the back of her head. She smiled up at Remus, happy to see his fond smile, and tucked herself under his arm, wrapping her arms around his waist. Her smile only grew when Sirius came over to join in their hug, crushing her between his body and Remus's with a laugh. Sirius only laughed more at Emma's growling stomach, and Remus made a noise of displeasure.

"Emma, did you not eat today?" Remus questioned, eyebrows raising at the sheepish grin that she gave him.

"I ate, er…a bit this morning," Emma said, giggling as Remus shook his head.

"Well, better than not at all," Remus replied. "Why don't I go get you something to eat then. I'm sure the family dog could use a walk, and I'm sure you want to catch up with Elara."

"You're not getting anything?" Emma questioned.

"We all ate before coming here," Elara said. "Desperately needed something other than the nonsense they try to feed you at the Ministry."

"You only got out today?"

"Yes, but we can talk about it _after_ you've had something to eat," Elara said lightly, waving Remus and Sirius off. "Go get our girl some food so that we can have uninterrupted girl time. I'm sure we've got _a lot_ to catch up on."

"I think we _all_ do," Remus said pointedly when Emma giggled nervously.

"Yes, now _go_ ," Elara said, pulling Emma out from between Remus and Sirius just to tuck her under her arm instead. "Girl time. Leave us, men!"

"I think that's our cue, Pads," Remus muttered, meeting Sirius's glittering eyes. "Is there anything specific you'd like, love?" he asked Emma lightly.

"Anything," Emma said. "I'm starving."

"Right then," Remus said, "let's leave the ladies alone for a bit and get our daughter something to eat." Sirius transformed into Padfoot with a cheery bark and a swish of his tail, and Remus rolled his eyes. "We'll be back. Take care of her." Emma felt that Remus's words were as much for her as it was for Elara.

With both Remus and Padfoot out of the house, Elara sighed. She pulled Emma into the sitting room and sat her down. Elara looked as though she wasn't sure where to start their conversation, taking a moment to study Emma closely.

Emma finally took a moment to look around the house, curious to see what everything looked like. It was a simply furnished home, clearly designed for guest use. There were neutral colors everywhere and little touches of Hogwarts. There were the golden fixtures of Gryffindor, the ornate fireplace that was Slytherin-worthy, all of the warm woods of Hufflepuff, and the brilliant art of Ravenclaw. Emma wondered idly if the house looked at all like what her quarters with Remus looked like before the changes were made. It was a moderately sized two-story home, and Emma was curious to see what the view upstairs would offer. As interested as she was to see the rest of the house, Emma wanted to enjoy talking to Elara privately without her fathers around.

"How are you?" Emma finally asked, needing to break up the silence. She glanced over towards the fireplace, and before Emma could mention the wireless radio, Elara was on her feet to turn it on. She fiddled for a moment to find a radio station that was more Muggle than wizarding just so that Emma had something more familiar to listen to.

"They took my wand," Elara said quietly with a slight shrug when Emma gave her a questioning look. She gave Emma a sad smile and shook her head at the expression that crossed Emma's face. "It's fine. I'll get a different one for the time being if Dumbledore can't retrieve mine and Sirius's wands," she said, sitting back down. "We'll talk more about it when your dads come back. But in the meantime, tell me all about Greyson."

"I don't even know what to say," Emma said with a blush.

"Tell me all the things you can't tell your dads – they're not around," Elara said with a wide grin. "When Remus brought him up during our wonderful stay for the full, I found myself very curious. You're going to have to explain everything else about him later, I'm sure, so I want the dirty details now."

"What makes you think there are dirty details?" Emma asked quickly, her face heating up.

"You are bright red, Emma Lupin. Spill."

"Oh, bloody hell," Emma muttered, covering her face with nervous giggles. She rubbed her cheeks as if that would calm the redness in her face. "I, erm, well…your birthday gift was quite useful." Elara's jaw dropped in surprise, and she burst into laughter.

"Well, that certainly wasn't who I had in mind when I sent that to you," Elara said, clutching hard at her stomach as she doubled over with laughter. "Oh my God, did you have _sex_ with him?" Elara asked when her laughter calmed, her eyes growing wide and practically sparkling in curiosity.

"No," Emma said with an embarrassed flush, rubbing the back of her neck. "Nearly did about three separate times, though. Got too scared the first time, forget what happened the second, and er…last night, we decided that we didn't want our first time to be rushed. But now I'm worried that we won't even get the chance."

"And he stopped when you wanted him to stop, right? Didn't try to pressure you into doing more than what you wanted?" Elara asked, reaching up to push Emma's hair back from her face with a knowing smile.

"He stopped," Emma said. "And then I completely lost it because he stopped."

"Because you were afraid that he wouldn't."

"I was afraid he wouldn't," Emma sighed. "He's incredible. We did just about everything else that we could, and he kept checking that I felt comfortable with everything. If he felt that I wasn't entirely sure about something, he would stop, and we would talk about it. I was afraid of telling him everything that happened to me, but he was so gentle and careful. He made me feel treasured. Elle, I didn't know someone like him could even exist."

"I think I like him already," Elara said, taking Emma's hands in hers. "He sounds very respectful. I know that you were always worried about the idea of being intimate with a man for the first time."

"Yes, well, it's not as though I've had much luck in that department," Emma sighed. "I was obviously more than worried considering this summer…Well, that didn't matter too much once I could finally see Greyson as Greyson, and Greyson is amazing."

"When did you finally start seeing him differently?"

"The moment we finally stopped fighting with each other over everything," Emma laughed. "About a week and a half ago. I had to remind myself to stop comparing him and see him as _him_ , and I realized how much I really loved just talking to him. It helps that he's incredibly handsome, too." Emma sighed, almost wistfully. "Elle, I fell in love with him, and I feel like that's absolutely mental, but I _love_ him. And I know that I love him, and that's what makes things so hard for me. He's sweet, he's funny, he's kind, and we're so similar that it's scary. Elle, he _reads poetry_. Greyson doesn't just read, which is already very attractive, but he reads poetry, and he's so smart –"

"Shh, don't tell me any of that yet!" Elara giggled. "I want to know everything else. Like is he a good kisser?"

"The _best_ ," Emma said, unable to stop her sudden girly giggling. "He's quite skilled with his mouth," Emma said with a wide smile, her cheeks turning pink, "and just as skilled with his fingers." Elara's jaw dropped once more, a surprised smile crossing her face as Emma continued to blush.

"I want to know _everything_ ," Elara said, eyes glittering. "Don't skip out on _any_ details."

Emma forgot just how nice it was to talk to another female, especially Elara, who was consistently open with her. Emma knew that she could talk to Remus when it came to vague scenarios about sex, but she could never speak this openly. She supposed she could talk to Sirius, but unless they were all together, it meant having to use the notebook, and Remus would still find out. Emma didn't think Remus would entirely appreciate the idea of knowing that she was fully prepared to share so much of herself with Greyson. With Elara, she could be completely honest about her feelings and not worry. Emma had been longing to have an open and candid conversation with someone she could trust, and Elara was perfect. Her secrets were safe.

"I didn't think I would regret _not_ having sex with him," Emma sighed. "I know we did just about everything else except actually having sex, but…"

"You wanted to feel even closer to him," Elara said knowingly, pulling Emma into a gentle hug. "Oh, you really love him, then, don't you? You're so careful with that heart of yours that he must mean a lot to you."

"Elle, I've never felt this way about _anyone_ before," Emma said earnestly. "I thought it was just Soleil talking, but Soleil knew my feelings well before I did. I thought Greyson was a bit mental when he said he felt like he's known me his whole life, but the more time I spent with him, the more I realized the same. His very _soul_ speaks to me." Emma's head whipped around at the sound of the front door opening, and she cast Elara a disappointed look.

"We can talk more later, kid," Elara said, pressing her forehead to Emma's. "You're with us all until Monday morning. We've got plenty of time. In the meantime, we'll keep our conversation between us girls."

"Excuse me, but what are you two keeping from me?" Remus asked, stepping into the living room. Padfoot stepped up beside him, a bag with a takeaway container held in his mouth, which made Emma giggle.

"Girl talk," Elara said, shaking her head at Padfoot's rapidly swishing tail. "Really, Sirius?" Padfoot ran into the room and dropped the bag on Emma's lap, and he transformed back in the blink of an eye.

"It was easier," Sirius said, scratching his head in a very dog-like fashion. "Plus, all the little old ladies thought it was cute."

"He just wanted people to scratch his back," Remus said, rolling his eyes. "He was grumpy that I refused."

"I was itchy!" Sirius insisted.

Emma folded her legs up in front of her, opening the takeaway container and being more than content that it was a burger and chips. She took a chip and popped it into her mouth appreciatively as everyone got themselves settled. Remus and Sirius took the loveseat, leaning against each other. Elara got herself more comfortable on the couch, pulling a leg underneath herself and propping her other leg up.

"So," Emma said slowly, taking a look at everyone, "what's going on?"

"Well, where do you want to start?" Remus asked. He let out a soft sigh as Emma's eyes immediately darted over to Elara, worry plastered on Emma's face. "Why am I not surprised that you want to start there? That's a…complicated issue."

"I'm being placed officially on house arrest on Monday afternoon," Elara said quietly. "I obviously lost my job at the hospital, but I can promise that if you have to go back for any reason, you're in good hands."

"But we're going to avoid any issues that need the hospital, yes?"

"Daddy, I don't go looking for trouble," Emma huffed, "trouble just seems to find me."

"All the same, I would like to avoid any major hospital visits," Remus said. "I'm not too sure I can handle much else in the foreseeable future."

"Yes, let's," Elara agreed. "For once, the Prophet article was fairly accurate. I didn't fight when they came to arrest me because I think I mentally prepared myself for the moment when I first took up my post at St. Mungo's. It really came down to when it would happen, and I'm just glad it took this long. Getting by with 12 years of employment was pretty impressive."

"And incredibly risky," Remus added.

"Risky, but look at what's come out of it," Elara said pointedly. "I don't regret any of it. I feel much better about everything knowing that someone like Emma exists in the world. She's the very thing I always hoped for – someone strong and confident enough to want to change things. That's all I've ever wanted."

"She certainly is, isn't she?" Sirius added, pulling a shy smile to Emma's face that she immediately hid in her food.

"Either way, I'm fine with the entire thing," Elara said.

"Why did they let you out?" Emma asked curiously.

"Well, would you believe it? Umbitch was actually good for something," Elara replied, leaning back into the couch cushions. "She said it wasn't worth 'wasting resources' on me, and with a sizable donation or two, they let me out until my trial. Sirius was a huge help with that and had it done in my name, and luckily no one questioned it."

Emma looked at Elara expectantly, wanting her to answer the question that she couldn't ask. Elara looked over at Remus and Sirius for a long moment before turning back to Emma with a sigh.

"The trial is still going to be for my execution," Elara said tightly, catching the takeaway container as it started to fall off Emma's lap. "But we don't want you to think about it. We don't even have a date for my trial yet, and we have…contingency plans."

"Meaning?" Emma asked.

"Elara," Remus said in a warning tone before Elara could speak.

"The point is that we're trying to figure things out," Sirius said quickly. "All of us."

"This is all Jude's fault…it's all _my_ fault," Emma said quietly.

"That's the thing, Emma…It wasn't Jude," Elara said. "He never said a word."

"What?" Emma breathed out, her stomach sinking. "If it wasn't Jude, and no one else knew –"

"We only have speculations of who it could have been," Remus said. "It could have been someone who finally picked up on the patterns, someone who might have accidentally overheard. There are multiple possibilities of what might have happened."

Emma looked between everyone, chewing her food slowly. It didn't sit right with her that it _couldn't_ have been Jude. The only likely person it _would_ be was Jude, but was it? Her stomach sank even further as she thought about the moment she learned about Elara's arrest. Persephone had been so insistent that it wasn't Jude, but she had been so quick to defend him and deny that it was her. Emma tried to run through that moment, trying to figure out what she could have possibly missed. Jude had threatened to say something to the Ministry about Elara, and it didn't fit that it couldn't be him. She couldn't see it being Persephone, but there were those small moments of doubt she had and even Fenrir's thinly veiled reminders to be careful.

"However, speaking of Jude, it was good that you were checked by Madam Pomfrey, at least," Sirius said quietly when Emma didn't immediately say anything. "Pomfrey making the report was helpful. Since the Cruciatus was outlawed after the war, it has put a bit of a damper on Jude's case."

"But he's also angry," Remus added. "And, unfortunately, is not being sent to Azkaban for it."

"Which means I need to worry about him even more," Emma said with a frown. "Why isn't he being put in Azkaban, though?"

"Backlog of other cases, questions on legalities of using the curse on half-breeds…"

"So you're saying that Fenrir was essentially right to not bother."

Remus gave a small nod, and Emma found herself losing her appetite. She had known that there was a possibility that it didn't matter if the report was made because of what she was. It was a complicated card for her to play, and while it still worked, it didn't work entirely. Emma wondered if Moody knew it wasn't going to have the desired results.

"Which brings us to the next topic of conversation," Elara said, eyes darting over to Remus. "Have your plans still changed when it comes to Fenrir?"

"I don't know," Emma said softly. She stared at her half-eaten dinner in the box on her lap and closed the box with a sigh, setting it aside. "Three weeks ago, I knew exactly what I wanted to do, but now I don't know."

Remus, Sirius, and Elara all looked at each other in surprise. They clearly weren't expecting that to be Emma's response.

"What happened?" Elara asked.

"Greyson happened," Emma said after a long pause. She rubbed a hand over her forehead, focusing on everything else in the room. "Can we talk about this all tomorrow? I think I'd like to have an early night…haven't gone to bed at a normal hour in weeks."

Remus opened his mouth to question what Emma was talking about, but Elara quickly shook her head. Sirius took a quick look around and was on his feet.

"Come on, sweetheart," Sirius said, tugging Emma up from the couch. "Let's go head up to your room."

Elara waited until Emma and Sirius had made it upstairs, and the door closed. She stood up and sat down next to Remus with a scowl on her face.

"Remus, I swear if you mess things up for Emma –"

"I didn't even do anything," Remus said, holding his hands up. "I just wanted to know why she was – oh." Remus clamped his mouth shut, his lips pressing into a thin line. "I'm an idiot."

"Yes, you are," Elara huffed. "Why else would she tell you she's going to bed and then still be up? She wanted to spend time with Greyson without having to worry."

"Well, perhaps she should be with someone she doesn't have to sneak around to be with."

"Remus, she is in love with Greyson," Elara said sharply. "You can't ignore that. And quite honestly, from what she told me, I think he might love her, too."

"He's Greyback's _son –_ "

"The son that he doesn't even know that he has. You're judging the poor boy for something he can't control, the very thing that Emma said he worries about. If he was any other boy, you would be fine with it."

"But he's not just any other boy. And I still wouldn't be fine with it."

Sirius stepped off the stairs looking between Remus and Elara, crossing his arms. He frowned slightly, leaning against the wall, giving Remus a pointed look.

"Is she asleep already?" Remus asked, his eyes following Elara as she got up to put away Emma's leftovers.

"Washed her face, got into her pajamas, and the moment her head hit the pillow, she was out," Sirius said.

"It's been a while since she's fallen asleep before nine," Remus said, peering down at his watch. "Probably not since earlier this year."

"You know, when you think about it, it's not too much different than us," Sirius said softly. "Emma and Greyson, I mean. I said that last week when you were annoyed that she wasn't saying anything. Two unlikely people finding each other and falling in love."

"Doesn't change that he's still older than her."

"Five years is nothing," Elara said, stretching herself out on the couch. "Especially by pure-blood standards – which you still need to talk to her about. He's still technically a student if he's getting his Mastery, and she might be younger, but she's smart."

"She's not pure-blood, and neither is he."

"She's still a Black," Sirius pointed out. "Pure-blood or not, she's a Black."

"And what if that's exactly why he wanted to get close to her?" Remus questioned. "We know nothing about him."

"Then we ask her. Minnie said –"

"I can't believe that you, of all people, feel like it's okay," Remus said, shooting Sirius a glare.

"When was the last time you saw Emma so happy, Remus?" Elara asked sharply. "That spark is back in her eyes, and I'm disappointed that you're willing to ignore that. She's happy, and Emma has been a damn good judge of character. If she trusts Greyson, then we should, too. I think if you listen to what she has to say, you'll understand."

"She doesn't need _a boy_ to be happy."

"No, she doesn't. She said that herself while you two were out. Even if Greyson winds up breaking her heart later on, does it matter? Do you want her to go through life not understanding what it means to be loved by someone?"

"She knows what it means to be loved."

"Remus," Elara said dryly. "You know what I mean. There are three of us who can help her figure this out, and I would much rather her realize that her life doesn't have to go the way she thinks it does. If it's Greyson who shows her that, then I think it's worth you at least hearing what she has to say."

"And, Moony, I believe that we both want what's best for our daughter, yes?" Sirius said, sitting down next to Remus and taking one of his hands.

"Now is not the time to give Emma a reason to feel as though she can't talk to you, Remus," Elara said pointedly. "She _wants_ to talk to you, but she's scared."

"Why is she scared?" Remus asked, his brow furrowing in annoyance. "There's no reason for her to be scared."

Elara sighed, meeting Sirius's gaze.

"Remus, please – when she finds it in herself to talk to you, just listen to her," Elara said gently. "I think you'll be very surprised." The look on Remus's face said that he wasn't prepared to be convinced, but Elara changed the subject. There were plenty more things for them to worry about.

Emma felt funny waking up in yet another bed that wasn't actually hers. She let out a soft sigh as she took a look around the blue-flame lit room. It seemed funny that she didn't need the blue flames with Greyson, but she needed them again the moment she was away. The sky was still dark outside her window, and Emma searched for a clock. It wasn't too long past midnight, and Emma wondered if anyone was up,

She sat up, stretching her arms over her head. If she knew her father well, Remus would still be up, and Sirius and Elara would most likely be asleep. Though Remus didn't suffer from insomnia, he did keep a terrible sleep schedule. As quietly as she could, Emma slipped out of bed and out into the hallway, smiling when she noticed a light still on from downstairs.

Even out in the village, Emma loved that she could find the familiarity in routine. Three weeks total with her father the entire summer was not enough time, and she missed quiet moments with Remus. Having Sirius around for most of that time was nice, but for the longest time, it was just her and Remus. She missed those days.

Emma tip-toed down the stairs into the sitting room and peered around the corner, grinning when she spotted who she hoped to find.

Remus's smile was knowing as he glanced up at her from his book. He was occupying the armchair still, reading his book in the light of the fireplace. His expression softened, and he shifted himself so that Emma could come over to drop her head on his shoulder. Emma smiled back at Remus, padding across the room and doing precisely that. She wished that the chair wasn't so high so that she could wrap her arms around his shoulders, but just being close would do. Like clockwork, Remus's hand came up to run through her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp as he continued to read. This would always be home for her.

Emma lifted herself on her tippy toes and turned her head to kiss Remus's cheek, nuzzling her cheek against his stubble.

"I missed you," she said quietly, smiling a little more when he set his book aside.

"I missed you more," Remus said, turning his head to kiss the tip of Emma's nose. "But you know I always miss you."

"I think it's impossible for you to miss me more than I miss you," Emma said, closing her eyes and enjoying her head being massaged. She was undeniably and without a doubt happier than she had been in months, perhaps even happier than she had ever been in her life. Her chest still ached with the twinges of what she felt she could be losing, but she was _happy_. Everyone she cared about most was under one roof, and it felt like a sanctuary. She didn't have to worry with everyone all together as if nothing was wrong. The only person missing was Greyson…

"How are you feeling?" Remus asked Emma softly. Emma opened her eyes slowly, taking in the concerned look in Remus's eyes. It bothered her for a moment, but she smiled.

"I'm happy," she said quietly. She felt tears spring to her eyes, but she blinked them away quickly, looking elsewhere in the room. "But it feels like last summer when I was afraid to come back here. I'm scared of losing my happiness again. I forgot what it was like to feel like I was actually living, but then I realized I don't know that I ever really was."

"What do you mean?"

"I did something for myself for once, and I didn't care about the consequences. And then I was stupid and fell in love when I didn't mean to…"

Remus paused what he was doing, a frown crossing his face. He thought he knew how Emma fell in love, but this was something entirely different. It had been such a long time since Remus had seen Emma's eyes hold a semblance of its old sparkle. He had seen small snippets of it, but not like this. This was something more profound, more reaching than Remus had ever seen in his daughter.

She was calm, her thoughts seemingly silent for the first time. Whatever worries and fears she had were brought to rest, and Remus wasn't sure he could allow that to slip away. It was all he ever wanted for Emma; to find a sense of peace within herself and the willpower to chase happiness for herself. Perhaps Elara had a point.

Remus cleared his throat, resuming his gentle massaging of Emma's scalp.

"Why didn't you tell me about Greyson?" he asked, feeling guilty by the worried expression on her face. Her green eyes turned to meet his, and Remus thought that he was suddenly looking into a mirror. Every ounce of self-doubt he ever had about himself was reflected in Emma's face, and he hated it.

"I didn't want you to worry," Emma said quietly, voice wavering with her uncertainty of where the conversation would go. "How did you actually know?"

"I had my suspicions, but Minerva was the one who confirmed them for me," Remus replied, brushing his knuckles against Emma's cheek. Emma's frown deepened, and Remus sighed. "It took me longer than it should've to piece things together. You absolutely despised Greyson when you wrote and told me about him. Then you seemed even more aggravated on your birthday. I believed it to be because of what the day brought, but you seemed to be holding back on what actually happened.

"It started to feel like you were trying to hide something when you brought up having a student-teacher but refused to give me a name. You continued to change the subject every time, and that's when I realized something was up. Remember, I practically invented the art of evading conversations." Remus gave Emma a pointed look, and a shy smile crossed her face. His avoidance of conversations had been a point of argument between them many times. Emma remained quiet, waiting for him to continue.

"Now, imagine my surprise when Minerva Floo-called me the day Elara was arrested asking where one would find you," Remus said slowly, almost carefully. "I expected you to run, just to feel more in control, but I didn't expect you to disappear for quite so long, and I started to worry. Imagine my further surprise when Minerva called again to tell me that you were found and that you were safe, but it was Greyson who asked for the information."

"She told me that she wouldn't tell you about Greyson unless I did," Emma said quietly.

"And I told her to tell you that in the hopes that you would say something to me, but you never did," Remus said. Emma's face fell, guilt replacing her uncertainty. Remus sighed, kissing Emma's cheek. "Remember, I already had my suspicions, love. Minerva seemed to feel as though you and Greyson would be good friends and tried to prepare me for the possibility. I don't think any of us quite expected you to fall in love with him."

"I know I certainly didn't," Emma said quietly. "I was scared to tell you about him in the first place, and then I was beyond _petrified_ to tell you about him. I didn't know how to tell you when it just…it happened. I just don't want to feel like I rely on you for absolutely everything that goes wrong. And I've _really_ wanted to talk to you about things, too."

"Sweetheart, that's what I'm here for," Remus said gently. "I'm here to help and try and take the burden of things off of you."

Emma shook her head and let out a soft sigh.

"I didn't need you to," she said. "I wanted your help, especially in the beginning, but realistically, what could you have done? He still had to be there to work on his Mastery."

"I could have requested he be moved to the other fourth year class."

"Yes, but then I wouldn't have realized that he would be interviewing to be my tutor."

"Until he canceled…very last minute, might I add."

"Because I told him to," Emma replied quietly. Remus met Emma's uncertain gaze, his forehead wrinkling.

"Why?"

Emma hesitated and turned her face away when she felt the quiver of her chin, a sure sign she would start to cry.

"I don't want him to get hurt," she muttered, whimpering softly as Remus gently turned her face to look at him. He searched her eyes for a long moment, his brows knitting close together.

"You really love him, don't you?"

"Yes," Emma whispered. "But it doesn't matter."

"Why doesn't it matter?"

"Because I don't want it to bother you…"

"Forgot about me for a minute," Remus said. "I know you don't want things to bother me, but that's not entirely it, is it?"

"I don't want Fenrir to know," Emma whispered after a long moment, closing her eyes as Remus kissed her cheek. "I don't…I don't want to be the reason Greyson gets hurt for whatever reason. I can't think of how it would work, even if…"

"Even if what?"

"It doesn't matter," Emma repeated sadly.

Remus sighed, reaching back to pull Emma around the chair to sit on his lap. She curled up against him, her head resting on his shoulder, resigned to what she had already decided. He wrapped one arm around her and held her head to his shoulder, pressing a kiss to her hair.

"Baby, talk to me," Remus said gently.

"About what?"

"You know I love you, yes?"

"I know."

"All right, and you know I would do anything to make sure that you stay happy?" Emma lifted her head to look at Remus curiously, her expression hopeful and skeptical. Remus couldn't entirely believe what he was about to say, but the hopeful look in her eyes convinced him that he had to give things a try. "Write to him. Tell him that I want to talk to him. I can't guarantee that I'll like him, but he clearly makes you happy. We can try and figure this out."

"Really?"

"Really."

The smile that crossed Emma's face was brilliant, but it fell quickly.

"But I'm afraid if I write to him, my letter won't actually _go_ to him now," Emma said quietly. "I know that sounds stupid…"

"I don't think it sounds stupid," Remus said. "But I think Fenrir's gone as Fenrir for so long that you don't need to worry."

"But what if the owl gets confused? I don't…if Fenrir finds out –"

"We won't let him find out."

Emma still looked unsure, but she looked hopeful. She worried her lip between her teeth, staring into the fire for a long moment.

"I've got, erm, I've got photos," Emma said quietly. "If you want to see them."

"You have photos, and you had them developed already?"

"I wanted Greyson to have copies, too…just in case," Emma replied. "After Colin showed me how to develop photos last year, it was just easier to do it myself. I don't plan to leave them in a place anyone could find them or anything. I just…I don't want to forget things again. I could show you and tell you more about him."

This was the Emma that Remus loved dearly, so excited that she would start to babble about whatever it was she was happy about. She was practically holding her breath, not sure if he was serious or not. Remus pulled her face close to kiss her cheek and nodded, and Emma jumped off his lap to run back upstairs. She returned to the living room just as quick, tongue sticking out between her teeth as she flipped through the pile in her hand. With an almost nervous giggle, she pulled a few photos out of the pile, separating them from the rest, and hid them behind her back. She thrust the presumably safe stack in her hand out towards Remus.

"What's wrong with those photos?" Remus questioned.

"I need to make sure you don't have a heart attack with those photos first," Emma said, her brows knit together, feet shuffling anxiously. "Most of those are just with Greyson. It's a bit…It's startling the first time you look at Greyson until you can start to pick out the features that make him, well, Greyson."

"It can't be –" Remus's words died out the moment he looked down at the first photo on the pile. He wasn't sure what to expect, but he immediately understood why Emma worried. It took Remus a moment to put together that he wasn't looking at a photo of a younger Fenrir; Fenrir would never be caught dead wearing a flower crown and a lopsided smile. It took Remus a few moments longer to start to flip through the photos understanding Emma's hesitation more and more. At certain angles, he looked like Fenrir at first glance, but in others, he looked completely different. Startling wasn't exactly the word he would have used.

"I told you," Emma said, watching him nervously, "but the longer you look, the less he looks like Fenrir."

"His eyes –"

"Are exactly the same, I know. It threw me off for a while, but then I realized those are different, too. Greyson's are kind, not the creepy predatory cold like Fenrir's are. They're like us, almost," Emma said with a shrug when Remus looked up at her. "I'm just making the point that there's no doubt that he's Fenrir's son in the same way there's no doubt I'm your daughter. But he's nothing like Fenrir at all. He's…a lot like you, actually." Remus looked back up at Emma, an eyebrow raising slightly at the comment, and Emma let out an exasperated sigh.

"He's kind, and he's gentle," Emma said quietly. "He's an absolute pain in the arse, but he's not mean. Well, he was…but I wasn't any better. We were both mean to each other, but we were both scared. Easier to hurt someone first before they get the chance to hurt you back, you know."

Remus did know that basic need all too well, and he pulled Emma close as she climbed back onto his lap with the rest of the photos. A blush crossed her face as she held out another photo, this one with the two of them together. Like the other photos, it appeared to be taken around the same time as the others, if not the same day. The sky was just beginning to darken if the shadows were of any indication. They were out by the lake, he could recognize the tree in the corner, but the photo she showed him wasn't one Emma took herself, but one Greyson took.

She was reading a book and would look up just before being pulled back to lay on the grass and pulled into Greyson's side as she laughed. Remus could practically hear Emma's laugh in the photo, bright and twinkling and genuine.

The next picture was clearly the aftermath of that moment, the hint of Emma's laughter still in her eyes. It was a quiet moment for the two of them, shy smiles and an expression Remus wasn't at all expecting to see on Greyson's face. He had never seen someone else look at his daughter with such gentle fondness that it took him off guard. Even stranger to him was the way he seemed to search her face before leaning over to kiss her cheek. The next few photos were almost the same – the same shy looks, the way Greyson approached everything he did with care. He was gentle with Emma in a way that Remus knew she needed. Emma was watching Remus closely, expectantly as if she feared the worst.

"You know what, tell me all about him," Remus finally said, smiling at the way Emma's face lit up. He found himself watching Emma more than paying attention to the photos she tried to tell him about in between telling him about Greyson. Remus didn't want to find a reason to like Greyson but seeing Emma so happy made it difficult not to. Even worse for Remus was the more Emma spoke about Greyson, the more he sounded like what he wanted for her.

Remus wasn't sure if he was happy for her or if it was a complete nightmare. Out of every possible person in the world, his daughter fell for the son of someone determined to make her life difficult. Then again, it seemed like exactly the sort of thing Emma would do, but he was worried. Emma continued to talk about Greyson excitedly, photos long since abandoned, even as she started to yawn around her words.

"Sweetheart," Remus said gently, trying to pull Emma out of her endless rambling when he found that she was fighting a losing battle. She stopped mid-sentence, blinking at him blearily, and Remus chuckled softly, kissing her forehead. "You know that you're not heading back tomorrow, yes? We've got all day tomorrow and early Monday morning?"

"I know," Emma said, snaking her arms around Remus's body to hug him. "I've just been wanting to tell you about him. I really do think you'd like him." Remus hummed quietly, pressing another kiss to Emma's forehead.

"Well, I'll be the judge of that," Remus said, taking the photos slipping off Emma's lap and setting them to the side. "You should get some more rest. You've got sleepy eyes."

"I don't know if I can make it back upstairs," Emma said sleepily.

"All right, then," Remus chuckled. "Just sleep on me for now. I'll bring you back upstairs in a bit." Emma nodded, getting herself comfortable and relaxing into Remus's embrace. Remus had to admit that he missed the quiet moments with Emma where he could hold her. He frequently worried that there would be a time where she wouldn't want to be held, but that day hadn't come yet. Rather than dwell on it, Remus rested his cheek on top of Emma's head and closed his eyes, focusing on keeping her comfortable.

Remus cracked open an eye when he heard the creak of the stairs – lighter steps, which meant it was Elara. Sirius's steps were much heavier and with purpose. Elara stopped at the bottom of the stairs with a soft smile on her face, and Remus sat up a little straighter, cocking his head to the side.

"She fell asleep pretty quickly," Elara said quietly. "I was listening at the top of the stairs to hear what she had to say. It was nice to hear her talk about something so excitedly again."

"I just wish it was a something and not a someone," Remus sighed, peering down at Emma, still fast asleep in his arms. He nodded his head towards the photos sitting on the arm of the chair. "I imagine you came down because you were curious about the photos."

"Caught me," Elara said, picking up the pile of photos and leaning against the chair. She flipped through the photos with a huffed out laugh. "No wonder she fell for him. He's sweet, and he's handsome. They look really good together, too; very cute."

"When she asked me the type of person I hoped she wound wind up with before school started, _he_ certainly wasn't what I expected," Remus sighed, rubbing his jaw.

"Would anyone ever be what you expected, Remus?" Elara asked pointedly, grinning at the way Remus rolled his eyes.

"She's my little girl. No one will ever be good enough."

"Well, if he's genuine, then you're going to have to get used to him. Look at how he looks at her," Elara said softly, lifting one of the photos up to look at it closer. "This is why she fell in love with him. He looks at her like she's the last sunrise he'll ever see, and you, of all people, should know that feeling. She might very well have just met the love of her life."

"I know," Remus said with a groan. "And I hate it, but I can't be so cruel that I can't at least try and look past my feelings for her. She's happy, and I would be the worst father in the world if I took that away. Like she said, he's not Fenrir, but why did it have to be _his son_? And how am I supposed to try and help keep Fenrir from knowing?"

"Because our girl has a heart of gold," Elara said, setting the photos down. "As for keeping them a secret? Well, I think two werewolves familiar with Fenrir and an escaped Azkaban fugitive can figure this out. Do this one thing for her, and she'll never forget it. You're a wonderful father, Remus, just like I said you would be. Don't ever forget it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh this little chapter was a much needed little break. Kinda miss Greyson, kinda missing Fenrir still (why though??), but happy to bring everyone else together again for a moment. Lots of questions answered, and I think I answered some of the bigger ones...emphasis on the _I think_ part, though. Even more questions exist though - namely, how are things going to work? _The world may never know._ Just kidding, I totally have an idea of what's going on. I have had to change so much, but it's fine. Emma needs a little bit of happiness and fun after the summer she had.
> 
> Poor Remus, though. He's feeling some type of way over everything.
> 
> GreysonxEmma (Gremma) one shots are coming at some point, I swear. I'm struggling to figure out how to format everything, but I've been having fun trying to build a Spotify playlist for them in the meantime. 
> 
> Anyway, late night readers - please go to sleep and get some rest. I love you and good night!
> 
> Definitely come and join us on Discord. We're an interesting bunch, and I swear we're friendly. Just jump right in and you will be 100% brought into the fold.
> 
> **come find me on:**   
>  [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/mymoonyandstars)   
>  [facebook](https://www.facebook.com/mymoonyandstars)   
>  [the moonlit stars discord](https://discord.gg/DtrKMhaTHR)
> 
> [spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/r6xi6203vwza01epk6askwk15?si=t4wwYBERRymTJvw09FJG3Q)  
> 


	43. Imperio

Fenrir was once a Gryffindor, and Emma wasn't even remotely surprised to have that information in her head. She had been in the library nearly every free moment she had once she returned to the castle, hoping to dig up the other information she needed, but it didn't exist. Just like Emma suspected, it was as if Fenrir had erased his old self from whatever he could but couldn't alter the yearbooks. She had no doubt that if Fenrir had the opportunity, he would have removed himself from the yearbooks as well.

All Emma had to work with was that Fenrir was once a Gryffindor and graduated in 1962. He participated in the dueling club and was a dab hand at Transfiguration. Just as Fenrir had told her, he was very much interested in Divination. The younger Fenrir oozed just as much charm as he did as an adult in any photo he could be found in; smug and cool. He was proud of his pure-blood roots until he suddenly wasn't. Somewhere between 1962 and 1965, Fenrir was bitten and turned into a werewolf, and it no longer seemed like an accident. Fenrir _wanted_ to be a werewolf, and that made him just that much more terrifying.

Once Emma and Greyson worked through their differences, he was more than willing to share the information he learned with her. Emma had been startled when he brought her to the library one day and immediately took her to the mythology section. They were frequently in the library together to share favorite books with each other, but other times Greyson tried to help Emma. Emma could still clearly remember how he had browsed the shelves, brows pulled close together as he inspected each title closely. After what felt like ages, he finally pulled a large book down from one of the shelves.

"Norse mythology?" Emma questioned as Greyson put the book down in front of her. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"I think mythology explains a lot, actually," Greyson said, flipping through the pages before stopping suddenly. He pointed down on the page with one hand and ran his other hand through his hair, almost like he was uncomfortable. "At least this does."

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Emma said, peering down at the page Greyson pointed to. "All those times I joked about him acting as though he was some sort of werewolf god, and there was some sort of truth to it." Greyson had given her the strangest look when she mentioned it, and she recalled giving him a playful shove in response. "I was trying to be funny when I said it. No wonder he thought it was absolutely hysterical when I would bring it up. How did you come across this?"

"Purely by accident, actually," Greyson had admitted. "I wanted to read something on mythology and I'd never looked into Norse myths before." He continued to stare at Emma, trying to decide whether or not she was serious. "You really sat and called him a werewolf god?"

"Greyson, if you had the unpleasant experience of having to live with him, you would be making terrible jokes like that as well," Emma muttered, scanning the pages, trying to take in words like Ragnarok and swallowing suns. "He has a weird way of making you forget who you are and very quickly. The comment wasn't meant to ever be serious."

Greyson continued to stare at her, blinking slowly as he studied her, still not entirely sure that he believed her. Eventually, he huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. He took a quick look around to make sure that no one was around and cupped Emma's chin, turning her face to look at him. He held her face steady, his eyes searching hers for a long moment, and then he tipped her face up so he could kiss her so sweetly it took her breath away.

"You are the strangest little thing I have ever come across, Emma Lupin," Greyson whispered against her lips as he started to pull away.

"You know, if you didn't insult me the moment you met me, that might have been offensive," Emma had replied, holding onto his collar to keep him from moving. She snorted at his sheepish and apologetic smile, stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, and then gave him a gentle push. "Now go away, I'm reading." Greyson made a choked noise of disbelief, his mouth falling open in shock, and Emma couldn't stop her smile. She adored being able to tease Greyson back after all the times he teased her.

"Well, then, _Princess_ ," Greyson scoffed. "I'll leave you alone to read. I know when I'm not wanted, but if you want more to look at, there are a few more books you can read. I'll tell you about them later." Greyson bent low so that his lips brushed over the shell over her ear and Emma shivered. "But I expect you in my room tonight and in my bed," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "I think we need to finish what we started earlier, and I would love very much to know if I can earn an 'O' from you for a job well done."

Greyson then stood, a smug look on his face as Emma turned to look at him with wide eyes. She wasn't even sure if she had blushed as heat immediately settled in her lower belly at his words. How dare he bring up such a thing and remind her that he pulled the filthiest noises from her mouth while enjoying a moment together in an unused classroom. His lips twitched slightly as he tried not to smile, but he failed miserably. Greyson knew exactly what he was doing to her.

"An 'O' for outstanding, Emma," Greyson said, tutting softly. "You know, since I need to do a good job in my interview since we'll have a mock one. Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that mind of yours, immediately thinking of _naughty_ things. All we're going to do is go to sleep afterwards." He let his words hang out in the open for a long moment before he winked at her, shoved his hands in his pockets, and left.

Emma swore that she hated him more than anything at that moment. She had to squeeze her thighs together to try and ease the sudden heat between her legs. And though she hated for him to go, she certainly loved to watch him leave, especially when he turned back to give her a cheeky grin.

With a growl, Emma slammed the yearbook she had in front of her closed and pushed it aside, needing to keep herself in the present. She was getting absolutely nowhere and wasn't getting any further than what Greyson had already managed to do. Emma had been trying to research for two weeks straight, and time was running out. It felt like Greyson left, and her short weekend with her family had passed by, and then the time had flown by.

Emma wasn't entirely aware of just how much she would find herself missing being around Greyson. Snape was as infuriating as ever, and she immediately regretted not just letting Greyson be her tutor. It would have made her potential relationship with him even more complicated, but it would have been worth it for her sanity. To occupy herself, Emma carefully divided her time between the library, working with Madame Pomfrey again, and spending time with her friends. She was grateful that Cedric and Justin seemed to know what she needed most days. Quidditch games were played nearly every night, and Cedric gave her guitar lessons in between. Emma hadn't realized just how much time she spent with Greyson until he wasn't there to spend time with. At least there was a very strong potential of seeing Greyson that weekend if everything went to plan. After dealing with Fenrir, of course.

It was nothing short of a miracle that Remus was mostly willing to meet Greyson at all. It was even nicer that Emma could talk to her father about him. She knew that Remus wasn't entirely sold on Greyson and didn't blame him, but he was willing to try, and she appreciated it. Emma was just glad that Greyson was so willing to meet Remus, no questions asked, even though it scared him.

Emma wasn't sure he would even write to her after she unceremoniously let him leave, but when she returned to the castle, a letter was waiting for her. Emma didn't believe that she had bothered eating that morning, far too excited that he wasn't upset with her. She had taken Greyson's letter and went somewhere she could read it privately, a stupid smile on her face.

The logistics on how the Hogsmeade trip would work were still being worked on, but it gave Emma something to look forward to. It was risky considering how many factors they were working with, but she had to maintain hope that it would be all right. With another growl, Emma dropped her head down to the table, closing her eyes to take advantage of the cool wood. The full moon being the next week felt like a cruel trick. Hadn't the full moon _just_ passed?

"Oi, what's with you?" Persephone asked, looking at all of the books surrounding Emma with fascination. "You all right?"

Emma lifted her head from the table to shoot Persephone a glare.

"Do I _look_ all right?" Emma asked.

"Well," Persephone said slowly, "by comparison to how you've been in the past, I'd say that this is pretty normal, really."

"Cheers, mate. Glad that I can be reduced to being surrounded by a ridiculous amount of books."

"What exactly are you even trying to do?" Persephone asked, reaching out for a yearbook. "The 1959 – 1960 school year? Why so long ago?"

"Flip on over to the fifth year Gryffindors, and you'll figure it out quickly."

Persephone gave Emma a look as though she thought she was mental, but flipped through the book and immediately freezing. She blinked several times, eyes flicking between the yearbook to Emma and then back to the page in front of her.

"But this is –"

"It's Fen, not Greyson," Emma sighed, rubbing her eyes. She thought it seemed obvious, Greyson wasn't a time traveler, but the thought had crossed her mind. With how weird her life was, Emma no longer discounted the possibility. "That's the point Fenrir and Greyson really start to look alike. Greyson always looked like his father, but that's when Fen's face started to change. God, I hate that I know him well enough to even pick that out easily."

"Fuck," Persephone breathed out. "I knew they were practically twins like you and your dad, but this is scary. Did Greyson show you these?"

"He did," Emma said with a yawn. "Fenrir Greyback is apparently a tricky man to get information on. I'm trying to follow the path Greyson took to see if I can figure out what he might have missed."

"Well, Fenrir was a Gryffindor," Persephone said slowly. "Why don't you ask Professor McGonagall about him."

Emma stared at Persephone for a moment feeling inspired by the idea and then groaned as she thought about it further.

"I don't need her telling Dad," Emma said. "Dad knows that I'm trying to learn more about Fenrir, but he doesn't know just how much I'm trying to learn. If I go to McGonagall, then there are no guarantees she won't tell him."

"What exactly are you trying to do? What purpose does this serve? This seems like the sort of absolutely mental shit Fenrir does."

"That's the point," Emma said. "It's the sort of thing Fenrir does, and he would never expect me to go this far. At least I don't think he would." Emma looked down at her watch and groaned, rubbing her face tiredly. "Damn it. I missed dinner. Again."

"Getting friendly with the house-elves again?" Persephone asked. "I was wondering if I just missed you or if you forgot."

"I've just been so focused on figuring all of _this_ out that it slipped my mind entirely that I should eat."

"You're not…we're not going to have a repeat of second year, are we?"

"Everyone keeps bloody bringing up second year," Emma said dryly. "There's a big difference between me genuinely forgetting to eat and not eating on purpose, and I am starving. I am hungry, I'm very grumpy, and I am very, very tired."

Persephone looked at all the books surrounding Emma once more, her lips pursing.

"Emma, you really should take a break from all of this if you're so tired," Persephone said. "It's not like any of this information is going anywhere."

"But I need to know before this weekend, Effie," Emma insisted. "I can't go into this meeting with Fenrir without knowing _something_. This is only a start, but I need more."

"I just worry that you're going to become obsessive over this. It's Fenrir. What you see is what you get."

"Not true at all," Emma murmured quietly. "He's versatile and can mold himself however he needs to for whatever he needs to. Fenrir thrives on people just expecting him as a werewolf, not Fenrir the businessman or Fenrir the wizard. You've only seen Fenrir the werewolf and Fenrir as…whatever the hell he was when we were kids."

"And you think you've seen all of that? You think that you've seen the other sides of Fenrir?"

"I know I've seen all of that," Emma said with a huff, gathering the books surrounding her and putting them into a pile. She gave Persephone a piercing look as she stood. "And right now, my entire existence is hanging on a life-or-death decision that doesn't just affect me. I'm not stupid enough to believe that Fenrir won't change his decision out of nowhere. He's already proven that he'll alter deals on a whim – the fact I'm even still alive is proof of that."

Something flickered across Persephone's face, something uncertain and worried, but she nodded.

"Right," Persephone said quietly. "Did you need help putting those away, or –?"

"I'll be fine," Emma responded with a yawn. "And before you get on my case, I'm stopping at the kitchens and then going right to bed. Get to start this month's doses of Wolfsbane tomorrow morning, and I'm looking forward to it. Not."

Emma thought that Snape would be relentless with his comments as she worked on the Wolfsbane Potion the next few days, but surprisingly she was alone. She would step into the room, and he would proceed to leave. After his snide comments about her trying to off herself again, Emma was surprised he would leave her alone. She would gladly deal with his stupid comments during class if it meant she could brew Wolfsbane in peace. If only she had Greyson's radio to listen to…

Emma wasn't sure if it was the overall stress of the weekend or being without a werewolf at the start of the week before the full moon that made her anxious. She was easily aggravated, prone to snapping at anyone who even looked at her the wrong way. George had dared to try and talk to her for the first time since they broke up, and Emma had completely lost it. Even Justin, who was already used to her frequent mood swings, had taken to avoiding her. Cedric was seemingly one of the only brave souls in Hufflepuff next to Finley who dared to interact with her. No matter how much Emma would scowl at them, clearly unamused by their intrusion, they stayed. Emma made a mental note to pick them up a gift for dealing with her; she knew that she wasn't enjoyable to be around.

However, it seemed that Thursday night, someone else would dare to try and interact with her. Emma really wished that they didn't.

Emma very rarely decided to do her homework in the Great Hall, but after consecutive nights in the library, she needed a change. The rest of the Hufflepuffs were lukewarm with her, at best, and Emma noticed the lack of invitations to study group. She didn't entirely mind not being included, having hated it when it was implemented in first year. On occasion, Emma appreciated the extra help with homework, but most of the time, she did much better on her own. Remus and Sirius were just a quickly scrawled plea in her notebook away if she was ever desperate for help. She always picked up concepts faster with Remus anyway.

She was working on her Potions work, sitting near the end of the Hufflepuff table and listening to the quiet conversations around her. A sugar quill dangled between her lips, and after every paragraph she wrote for her Potion's essay, she would write a little more of her letter to Greyson. She didn't _have_ to write to Greyson, but his owl was sitting in the owlery waiting for her reply, and she worried he would change his mind for the weekend.

He had been wonderful about writing her every day that week even though he didn't need to. Her heart had melted a little when he would send her parts of his favorite poems just to try and make her smile. It made her feel a bit better that he seemed to miss her as much as she missed him.

Emma had been in an enjoyable memory of her very short time with Greyson when a voice pulled her attention away. If it was any other person, she might have been more receptive, but Emma was not remotely prepared to deal with Hermione Granger. She wanted to be back in her thoughts of Greyson and the things she wanted to do with him.

"Oh, Emma! Just the person I was looking for!"

Emma looked up from her letter to Greyson, her eyebrows raising as Hermione came running up to her. Hermione seemed far too happy for Emma's liking, and she looked at the box that Hermione carried with disdain. Emma had seen Hermione running around with the box in her hand and already had an idea of why she was there. The whole werewolf thing had finally been run into the ground, and the castle had moved onto Hermione's newest quest. Emma, admittedly, was less than impressed, especially in her current mood.

"Yes?" Emma said slowly, pulling her sugar quill out of her mouth, licking her lips to free them from the drying sugar. Emma set down her actual quill with her brow furrowing, staring at the box held tightly in Hermione's hands suspiciously. Emma thought it was evident that she didn't want to be bothered considering her proximity to the Great Hall's exit, but Hermione seemed oblivious.

Hermione sat down next to Emma, dropping the box on the table with a rattling thud. "I wanted to talk to you about something. I started this group called S.P.E.W. –"

"You started a group called Spew?"

"No, S. P. E. W. is what it's called. It stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, and I thought that –"

"No."

Hermione froze, her eyes growing wide at Emma's terse response well before she even explained anything. "You didn't even listen to what I have to say."

"Because you already lost me," Emma said, turning back to her work. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get my work done." She didn't have to explain that her work was actually writing her letter to Greyson, and she stuck her sugar quill back in her mouth.

Undeterred by Emma's response, Hermione continued on.

"I've been researching, and I think it's absolutely appalling that in all this time, no one has cared about elf enslavement. It goes back for centuries! The group's short-term aim is to secure fair wages for house-elves and better working conditions. Our long-term goal includes changing the laws about non-wand use and trying to get an elf into the Department of –"

"Hermione," Emma said sharply, "please stop."

"We are going to try and get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures because elves are terribly underrepresented," Hermione continued on, ignoring Emma's scathing glare. "I have these badges –" Hermione opened her box, showing badges of different colors bearing the letters: S.P.E.W. "– and I was originally going to have them say Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal status, but that didn't fit, so then I –"

Emma gathered her things and slammed her book closed, the noise seemingly echoing in the now oddly silent Great Hall. Hermione clamped her mouth shut with wide eyes.

"Hermione, do you even realize how absolutely ridiculous you sound?"

"W-what do you mean?" Hermione asked, nonplussed by Emma's response. "I thought you would understand."

"What I understand is that you are campaigning for the one group of creatures that will quite literally die if they are not attached to a witch or wizard," Emma said with a huff. "Of _all_ of the creatures that you could be making a campaign for, you chose _house-elves_? You didn't consider that _maybe,_ just maybe, you should advocate on behalf of your friend who has werewolves for a family?

"Hermione, are you forgetting the fact that right this very moment, a woman who I very much consider a mum is on _trial_ for something that affects her _one_ night a month? Are you aware that the Ministry is very willing to sentence her to death _just_ because of what she is? It doesn't even matter that what she was doing was helping others. All they see is a vicious creature when she's the furthest thing from being one. Are you also forgetting that my father – who you absolutely adored, might I add – was nearly sentenced to death just for existing, as well? While I am very sympathetic to the plight of a house-elf, you are blatantly ignoring the fact that they need magic to survive. You are ignoring that there is an issue much closer to home – an issue that directly affects someone you're supposed to be friends with."

Hermione seemed completely taken aback, her eyes wide.

"But Emma –"

Emma stood up suddenly, drawing even more attention than she wanted. She hesitated for a moment, looking around at everyone who was looking at her curiously. Emma knew she should stop, just take her things and go, but she was angry.

"No, Hermione. I don't want to hear that you thought I would 'understand' what you're trying to do. What I see right now is someone not advocating for the people that really need it. My father is no longer allowed to gain employment because he's a werewolf. He is no longer given rights because he is a werewolf. According to the entire magical community, he is considered a dangerous animal that could attack you because you look at him the wrong way."

Emma scoffed, her blood boiling with a fire she hadn't felt in such a long time. Angry tears sprung up in her eyes, and she hated it, but she wasn't done.

"Every day, I have to wake up and worry that the Ministry will find a reason to execute him. And you want to know what his biggest transgression is? He didn't put his name on the werewolf registry because he wanted to live a normal life. Now I have to worry that the person I consider a mum will be killed because she tried to make things easier for others. You're going to tell me that I don't understand? Really Hermione? It's _you_ who doesn't understand. You get to live a normal bloody life, and the only issue you have to deal with is that you're a _Muggle-born_.

"Did you even consider the fact that even though I'm not a werewolf, people look at me the same way? Because I share my dad's blood, because I have _wolfish_ tendencies, I'm considered a threat? Are you aware that I have gotten death threats since coming back to school? That people have threatened to 'put me down like a dog?' He didn't ask for his life to be the way it is and I certainly didn't ask for my life to be the way it is. He was attacked by a werewolf with an agenda to try and teach my grandfather a lesson. That exact same werewolf that attacked my father wound up attacking me as well, and now I have to look like this for the rest of my life. For someone who's meant to be the 'brightest witch of her age,' you are incredibly ignorant."

Emma shook her head, wiping away her tears. She wasn't at all proud of how she was acting, but she was wound up tight with her anxiety. There was only so much that she could handle, and Hermione had tipped her entirely over the edge.

"Hermione, I may have been born into a magical family, but I was brought up as a Muggle just like you. This world is still incredibly new to me, but I took the time to research the issues that matter. I suggest that you do, too."

"Emma –"

"No, Hermione. I need people to advocate for my family, and you're one of the people who doesn't seem to give a damn," Emma shouted. She took a look around at the people staring and let out a derisive breath. "Pathetic," Emma spat.

Emma shot everyone still staring a glare, sneered at Hermione who had tears in her eyes, grabbed her things, and left. It was very unlike her to get angry like that, and she knew the Hogwarts rumor mill would start back up again, but she didn't care. As far as she was concerned, she didn't say a single thing that wasn't true. Very few people had been in her corner, and though a few unexpected people had supported her, Emma still felt alone. She heard the things people said about her, the way they made fun of her or made snide comments, but she had to ignore them. If she didn't ignore them, she would find herself exactly where she had been mentally in her second year.

She was sorely tempted to go somewhere to hide but forced herself down into the dorms and into her bed. A good, proper cuddle with Figaro was in order, and she needed to wake up early. Emma nearly remembered too late that she still didn't get to finish her letter to Greyson and quickly shot up from her bed to do that. She would have been more annoyed if she didn't send out her letter.

The overall mood towards her on Friday morning was particularly cold after she yelled at Hermione. Hermione wasn't the most popular student in Hogwarts by a long shot, but Emma already heard the stirrings of her somehow preaching "werewolf supremacy." Fenrir would be proud to hear that one. The Slytherins who had been avoiding her for most of that year except to pester her about being called Emma Black practically applauded her entrance. Draco was possibly the one most amused by Emma's display.

"I didn't think you had it in you, Lupin," Draco shouted from the Slytherin table when she sat down for breakfast. Emma barely bothered to look up from her plate of sausages and eggs, far too tired to care. Her mood lifted moderately when Greyson's owl dropped in with one of the sweetest letters he had sent her so far. She held it close as she read it, happy to see that he was excited to see her the next day, and Emma tucked it happily into the inner robe of her pocket. There was a strong possibility she would read it throughout the day.

Emma's mood took a quick dip when she left History of Magic and heard the conversations the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were having. Moody had decided to put the entire class under the Imperius Curse that morning, which meant her class would be doing the same.

"What did he have you do?" Emma asked, grabbing onto Harry's robe to keep him from going far. He was rubbing hard at his knees, and it made Emma frown.

"He tried to have me jump on a desk," Harry grumbled. "I somehow managed to resist it, but I slammed both of my knees into the desk. He made me do it four times in a row."

Emma didn't like the sound of that at all.

Her anxiety over Moody's class made her struggle all through Potion's. On a typical day, she could handle the class, but her thoughts were too scattered. She wasn't at all surprised when Snape walked by her cauldron and completely vanished what she was working on. It wasn't anywhere near her usual quality of work. She preferred the evidence not exist even if it meant that she would receive no credit.

Moody wasted no time the moment the bell rang for class to start. He quickly announced what they would be doing that class period, and Emma's heart was racing. This was the last thing she needed to do in her current state. At least Draco looked as anxious as Emma felt, but Draco was always a complete wimp.

One by one, Moody pulled students forward and cast the Imperius Curse on them. One by one, Emma noticed the almost glazed over look her classmates would get before being made to do things they wouldn't otherwise. It appeared that there was nothing that the Imperius Curse couldn't have someone do.

Goyle was put through some sort of gymnastics routine, which made everyone laugh until Moody yelled at them. Wayne was made to walk around and pretend that he was a duck. Emma couldn't stop herself from bursting into a fit of giggles when Persephone was made to skip around the room and sing.

"Lupin!" Moody said sharply when he released Persephone from the curse. "You're up."

Emma immediately paled, slowly taking the spot where Persephone had been, frowning slightly as Persephone rubbed her temples.

"Not so funny when it's you up here, is it?" Moody asked, his gaze piercing. Emma gave an uncertain smile in response. Before she had the opportunity to brace herself, Moody's wand was raised, and he said, " _Imperio_!"

Emma, admittedly, didn't entirely mind the feeling that washed over her at first. She felt as though nothing mattered and that she wasn't even in the Defense classroom. Every bitter thought and worry she had no longer existed – only a state of bliss. She was no longer worried about having to see Fenrir, didn't worry about how dangerous it could be seeing Greyson – all she cared about staying relaxed.

But that bliss swept away into a wave of anger she wasn't expecting. Soleil _hated_ having a third person in her mind and was well aware of it before Emma was.

 _Do a cartwheel...do a cartwheel…_ Moody's voice repeated somewhere in her mind, fitting in between her thoughts and Soleil's.

Soleil was _angrier_ than anything Emma had ever heard before, low guttural snarls and snapping teeth. It was too close to the full moon, too invasive for Emma or Soleil to feel comfortable, but Emma didn't understand Soleil's animosity towards doing a cartwheel. It was such a simple thing to do, and there was plenty of room. The desks had been mostly cleared out and a cartwheel was so easy.

Why not? Emma dared to ask Soleil as she felt herself start to twist herself to do a cartwheel.

Don't do it, Soleil said to her. He's hoping to make you look stupid.

_Do a cartwheel._

Emma didn't think that she could look stupid while doing a cartwheel, but she supposed that Soleil had a point. Soleil continued to tell her not to listen, and not obey. She was wearing a skirt, and if she were to fall, the idea of her knickers being on display seemed terrible. Emma felt herself start to straighten back up, but Moody's voice was back and more insistent.

_Do a cartwheel NOW!_

No! Soleil growled, and the next thing Emma knew was she found herself on the ground, and she immediately understood Harry's pain. With an odd flicker of nothingness, Emma had completely lost all control of her thoughts, and it scared her. Somewhere along the line, Emma's very mind had gone completely blank as if she wasn't even there. Soleil had never shoved herself to the front of her mind like that, and the sudden loss of power paired with the Imperius Curse was terrifying. She shot Moody an aggravated look, rubbing her knees with a softly muttered, "Ow."

"Interesting," Moody said slowly, his gaze searching. "Well, well, Lupin. That wasn't entirely you, was it?"

Emma frowned, trying to sort through her thoughts, and eventually shook her head. She couldn't say that it was entirely her that decided to fight against the invasion because Emma Lupin was willing to obey. Soleil was not.

"Up, Lupin," Moody said. "I want you to try again. I want to see if you're like Potter and can beat it." He motioned for Emma to stand back up before addressing the rest of the class, "I want you all to watch her eyes – that's where you see it!"

Moody put her through the Imperius Curse three times, barely allowing her to recover between the spell being cast. Each time Soleil pushed through faster, and Emma felt like she was losing herself more – blackness replacing what she should remember. Emma thought that with the Wolfsbane Potion, Soleil wouldn't be able to do such a thing, and the fact she could lose herself at all was concerning. Remus had never mentioned Moony forcing himself forward in times of great distress, but they had never discussed that part of the wolf before.

She left Defense Against the Dark Arts shaky and weak. If she could lose herself while still human, Emma didn't want to know what it was like as a werewolf. It was scarier than she thought it would be, and Emma had a sudden understanding of how Remus felt before taking the Wolfsbane Potion. But why was Soleil able to push through at all? How often did Fenrir allow himself to have moments like that? She doubted that her father ever let Moony take over like that, but how did he keep Moony at bay? _Could_ he keep Moony at bay? Emma had so many questions for a scenario that she never thought she would ever experience, and she _hated_ it.

Emma could barely make it through Charms and Transfiguration, and she was grateful that she didn't have therapy again until the next week. She was shaken to her core, unable to understand what had happened. Was her increased tremble from the after-effects of the Imperius Curse, from her nerves, or something else? Emma briefly considered writing to Remus to ask him about it, but she would be seeing him the next day. It was a conversation she would much rather have in person, but it left her unsettled.

She slipped into her bed that night, restless and nervous and still shaken up from Moody's class. Her thoughts refused to slow down, her stomach knotting almost painfully with her anxiety. Emma was so worried that she swore she wasn't going to be able to fall asleep, but the next thing she knew, her alarm was going off.

She couldn't convince herself to move except to slam her clock's alarm off. Emma stared at her ceiling, feeling like she would be sick. Five hours separated Emma from a decision that was going to decide how at least the next few years would go, if not her whole life.

Emma wasn't ready; she had no idea what she was going to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG I didn't think I was ever going to get to this point. It felt like it was never going to happen, but now we can start breeeezzziiinngggg along. Can't wait to bring Fenrir back finally - why do I miss him??? But we also get Greyson, too. And also Remus. Lots of moving parts in the next chapter. o_o
> 
> So, at least with Moody and his Imperius Curse lesson, Remus no longer has the worst Defense lesson taught. As helpful as it was to teach students what the curse was like, it was stilllllll bad. 
> 
> Anyway, these one shots are going sloooowwww mostly because I think I've been wanting to write Fen haha. Ooooops. ANYWAYS, I swear they'll be coming at some point.
> 
> To all of my late night readers - please go to sleep! I love you and good night!
> 
> **come find me on:**   
>  [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/mymoonyandstars)   
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> 
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> 


	44. One of the Pack

Emma hated the walk to Hogsmeade. Everyone surrounding her was happy and excited to be out for a day of shopping, but Emma felt she was talking to her death. At least she thought that she looked nice if she would be attending her own funeral.

She was more made up than usual and felt very self-conscious about it. If it weren't for the fact that she would see Greyson later, she wouldn't have bothered dressing up at all. Then again, Emma wasn't too sure she was dressed up much at all.

Emma opted to try and find a middle ground between girly and fierce. She wanted to look pretty for Greyson but somehow look strong when dealing with Fenrir. Her boots were a signature staple to her wardrobe but paired with a dark red dress, she felt just feminine enough for it to work. She made sure that her hair was set in pretty waves, her fringe pushed to the side with a marigold-colored headband. Paired with her usual cat-eye and a darker lipstick than usual, and when Emma looked at herself in the mirror, she felt that she nailed the look she was looking for.

With a soft sigh, she ran her fingers over the scars on her face; at least she could say they didn't stand out as much as they did a month ago. They had finally healed enough to a point where they weren't jarring to look at, a light pink versus the red they once were. She still hated them, but she was far more accepting of them in their current state. Emma felt that they wouldn't be the first thing that people would focus on anymore. They were a part of her, and always would be, but they weren't the only thing that mattered.

One of the things Emma still had yet to do was find herself a new coat. It was unfortunate that she found out the air had a significant chill in the air when she hauled herself out of bed. The only option of keeping warm was Fenrir's coat, and Emma begrudgingly threw it on over her outfit. At least she could say that she looked somewhat cool. Oversized clothing had seemed to have started to come into fashion, especially amongst the Muggle-borns. She didn't entirely understand it, but it worked in her favor.

Walking into the village felt oddly normal. It wasn't like the previous year where she was very aware of Fenrir's presence, but perhaps she had just gotten used to it. Or, if she was lucky, he had completely changed his mind and forgot to tell her. She started to make her way towards the Hog's Head Inn, where Fenrir said to meet him but took her time. As she began to approach Honeydukes, she frowned slightly. There was a small crowd of students, and Emma wasn't entirely sure why she was surprised her father was in the center of it. She had grown used to the things people said about him that it didn't occur to her people might still be happy to see him.

"Daddy," Emma shouted, not caring to stop herself when she started to run to Remus. She pushed through the crowd of students that stopped to talk to him and threw herself into his arms. She had no idea that he would be in Hogsmeade so early, but she wasn't too upset by it.

"Perhaps we can talk later," Remus said lightly to the students surrounding him. "If you'll excuse me…" Remus pulled Emma off to the side towards a bench and sat her down. He took a quick look at what she was wearing, looking as though he wanted to question the coat, but decided not to. Remus sat down, taking one of Emma's hands in his and cupping her cheek.

"How are you?" he asked softly.

"I don't know," Emma said. "I'm…I'm tired. I don't want to do this. Why are you so here early?"

"I thought it would be better for me to come early just in case," Remus replied. "I just wanted to make sure that everything will go as smoothly as possible. I know that today's important…and if you don't want to, then don't go."

"And have Fenrir come searching for me? You know that he would happily burn this village down just to get to me. Or he'll sit and brood and try to figure out the best way to destroy me later on. Either way, if I don't go, it won't end well."

Remus's lips pressed into a thin line, and he pulled in a deep breath through his nose. He couldn't deny that claim even if he tried.

"You still don't know what you're going to do?" he asked.

"No," Emma said quietly. "I don't think I'll know until I see him. I mean, I thought I knew for sure, but now…" Emma trailed off, looking across the way at Honeydukes. She wondered if Greyson would want to go in with her later if he didn't change his mind. "What if he doesn't show up?"

Remus followed Emma's line of sight and sighed, pulling her close and hugging her tight.

"He will," Remus said in understanding. He didn't dare say more, just in case. The village wouldn't be safe until they knew Fenrir had left. Remus pulled away from Emma and sighed, taking another look at Emma's coat, scratching his head. "We really need to get you a new coat, don't we?"

Emma snorted as she looked down at the coat and nodded.

"It's not too terrible," Emma said quietly, peering at her rolled-up sleeves. "Other than being way too big, it's warm. It has a warming charm, and it is water repellant. I'm not sure what else it might have, though. I never thought to try and check. I didn't even know that I had it until I went into my bag. Suppose it was one final parting gift because Fenrir knew I didn't have one."

Remus nodded, a wry smile on his face. "Well, when you're home next, we'll make sure to find you one that fits," he said, "and I'll make sure that it's the warmest coat you've ever had."

"I'm sure you will," Emma said with a small smile. She looked down at her watch and leaned forward to rest her forehead on his shoulder with a groan. "Fifteen minutes until I'm supposed to meet him," she muttered. "Do you think he's here?"

"He's been here," Remus said softly after a long pause. "He's been here for the past half hour at least." Emma sat back up straighter, looking around as if she would spot Fenrir. She always knew when Fenrir was about, and it didn't sit right with her that she was unaware. Even Soleil was calm in her mind, curled up and resting, not at all bothered by the very thought that Fenrir was already in the village.

"Really?" Emma questioned with a frown. "I don't…I don't, er, _sense_ him? I'm normally very aware when he's somewhere, but I don't feel that at all. Did you…did you see him?"

A slight frown crossed Remus's face, but he nodded, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead.

"I did," Remus said quietly. "Talked to him, too, actually."

"You _did_?"

"I did."

Emma fell silent, searching Remus's face, looking for any sign of _something_. The idea of her father actually talking to Fenrir was concerning when she knew his thoughts. What she was looking for, she wasn't entirely sure, and Remus chuckled softly.

"I'm fine," he said, "I haven't seen him since you were twelve, but things are a lot different now. And as for you being unaware of him, well, perhaps that means you're not as worried of him as you once were. I suppose we should be glad that you can go into things with a, ah, clearer mind. But you really look exhausted, fy nghariad bach."

"It's not the first time I've had to deal with Fenrir while exhausted," Emma sighed, looking back over at Honeydukes. "But perhaps that's when I deal with him best. The less I have to care about how I act around him, the easier it is. Besides, he appreciates a bit of honesty from me. Considering…well, the sooner it's over with, the happier I'll be. I hope."

"He'll come," Remus repeated, gently turning Emma's face to look at him. "Every time I look at you, you look a little bit older. You will always be my little girl, but my God, it terrifies me how fast you're growing up."

"Yes, well…between this year and last, I feel as though I've aged at least fifteen years alone," Emma said, taking a look down at her watch, her frown deepening. "Are you sure that you can't come with me for this?"

"If I could, I would," Remus said sadly. "If negotiations are involved, Fenrir is going to want you and only you. He won't even bother with having Raoul present – this is between the two of you."

"And you promise –"

"No matter what you decide, I will always support you. You know what I'd rather your decision be, but we figure things out in the end, yes?"

"And what if –"

"If he is truly worthy of you, then he will understand."

Emma met Remus's eyes with a sigh. She wondered when exactly it was that they finally figured things out, to find a point where he could read her mind with ease. He had always seemed to have a sixth sense for her thoughts, but it had become increasingly easier for him to read her. She rarely needed to finish a thought for her father to understand what worried her, and she was grateful for it, especially when she couldn't think straight. Remus knowing precisely what she was concerned about made her feel the tiniest bit more at ease.

In the end, Emma wasn't sure if she was more worried about Fenrir or more concerned about Greyson. Perhaps both, perhaps neither at all. She just wanted to make the right decision that would involve the least amount of people getting hurt. Really, she just wanted to be happy.

"I should go," she said quietly, standing up slowly. "I don't need Fenrir to find a reason to 'alter things further' as he so loves to say." She gave Remus a tight hug once they both stood, holding onto him almost desperately for one last moment of comfort.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"It'll be fine."

"No," Emma said softly, " _thank you_. I know that –"

"All I want is your happiness, sweetheart. And if it means that I suffer a little discomfort for you to be happy, it's worth it. I promised you I would go into things with an open mind. As our correspondences have been amicable, I suppose it would be unfair to not give him a chance," Remus said, leaning back to take Emma's face between his hands. "But you should go. We both know how he gets…"

Emma nodded, reluctantly pulling herself away from Remus. She wasn't at all ready to leave her father, but if she was late meeting Fenrir, she didn't want to know the consequences.

She had been near the Hog's Head several times, including the fateful day where Persephone told her to be nearby. It wasn't a place that she wanted to visit, too put off by its run-down appearance. She knew that the Hog's Head Inn had a reputation for being one of the dodgier places in the wizarding community. The usual patrons of the pub were the sort of people who didn't _want_ to be seen and, Emma had to agree with that sentiment. She didn't _want_ to be seen with Fenrir, and the chances of anyone noticing was slim. It was perfect.

Emma frowned as she stopped just far enough away to stare at the building. The wooden sign over the top of the door was just as battered as she remembered, its bracket rusty and barely hanging on. She snickered to herself, rubbing her temples as she stared hard at the door. This was absolutely ridiculous, and the very visual in her head seemed stupid.

Her, little Emma Lupin, was about to go into the Hog's Head Inn to meet with Fenrir Greyback, a werewolf in which her relationship was undetermined. She was about to sit down and have a conversation she wasn't ready to have to try and determine what direction her life would take. And somehow, if she survived, she would be heading off to the Three Broomsticks to hopefully see Fenrir's son, the one she was sure he was unaware of. Even worse, when she saw Greyson, she would either come with bad news knowing he would leave, or good news and somehow hope Fenrir didn't kill her. She just hoped that she could keep everything that needed to be secret still a secret.

Either way she looked at it, things weren't going to end well for her. The only thing keeping her moving forward was the idea of just a few moments with Greyson. Even if Greyson hated her in the end, at least she could say that he gave her confidence that she didn't know she could have. In a short amount of time, he taught her how to start taking what she wanted and do things for herself.

"Oh fuck me sideways," Emma muttered, looking down at her watch. Even if Fenrir knew she was right outside, she could see him counting it against her if she was a minute late.

Having never set foot in the Hog's Head before, Emma wasn't at all surprised that it appeared exactly how she thought it would. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop her nervous laugh. If she thought the outside was fitting for what she was doing, the interior was even worse; dark and dingy and far dirtier than she thought it would be. Despite the sun being out, it barely came in through the bay windows, and the room was lit by candles. She couldn't convince herself to look around too much out of fear of giggling, but her gaze automatically turned to the bar. At least in the pub, she was more aware of Fenrir's presence, but she didn't look for him. The desire to run suddenly overcame her, and she started to debate the possibility of leaving.

Emma locked eyes with the barman, her head cocking to the side and her brow furrowing as she looked at him. He was tall and skinny with long hair and an equally long beard. Something about his blue eyes seemed familiar to her, but she couldn't quite place why that would be.

"No students this weekend," the barman said gruffly. That was all the incentive that Emma needed.

Emma cast him a nervous smile and started to walk backward to leave, but she was stopped by a hand wrapping around the back of her neck. An involuntary shiver ran down her spine at the familiar feel of Fenrir's calloused fingers touching her skin. She didn't miss the feeling at all, the way his fingers would hold on to her possessively and the coldness that came with it. Her thoughts immediately started to drift, but she refused to let them. Even if Soleil knew not to speak to Fenrir, there weren't any guarantees he wouldn't realize something was amiss. He was scarily intuitive, but it was possible to keep Fenrir in the dark; she just had to remember that it was possible.

She cringed inwardly and gulped, turning her head to give him a sheepish grin in a show of feigned submissiveness. Her stomach sank at the dark look on Fenrir's face, and she had to immediately look away for fear of completely losing her nerve. Meeting Fenrir's eyes for the first time after spending so much time with Greyson was startling and made her nervous. This was going to be far more complicated than she thought it would be.

"Good try," Fenrir grunted. "She's with me," he said to the barman.

The barman studied Emma for a long moment and then turned his attention to Fenrir. As curious as he was, he didn't dare ask and only gave the slightest of nods in response. Fenrir made it very clear who was in charge of the meeting, guiding Emma over to the bar, hand still firmly around her neck.

"I'm not taking any chances with you," Fenrir said pointedly, and Emma shot him a glare. "I know what it's like to be on the opposite end of your wand. Leave it at the bar."

"You complain about me and my wand, but I think your nails are a bit more worrisome than what I can do," Emma said, crossing her arms as Fenrir released his hold on her. He lifted his hands to show that his nails were filed down and not claw-like at all. Emma hummed quietly to herself – she never thought she'd see Fenrir with normal fingernails in her life. She couldn't remember him ever filing his nails down even when she was younger, but it didn't mean he was any less dangerous. It just meant that he wasn't entirely intent on mauling her.

"Fine," she said, "you first. I'm not taking chances either. I'm at more of a disadvantage than you are."

Fenrir rolled his eyes and pulled out his wand, dropping it on the bar counter, staring hard at Emma. For a moment, Emma considered taking her wand and casting the first spell she could think of on him and making a run for it. She had no idea just how far she would wind up getting, but the idea was tempting. Fenrir's nails weren't long, but she knew how much damage he could do with his teeth, which worried her. The idea of running lasted a few seconds longer until Fenrir's eyebrow started to lift, and she reached into her coat and pulled her wand out, dropping it on the counter.

The barman looked between Emma and Fenrir, his eyebrows shooting up. Either this wasn't typical, or he was very fascinated by the display in front of him. Emma wasn't at all fascinated and folded her arms, staring at Fenrir. The sooner they got this meeting done, the happier she would be, but he didn't appear in any rush.

"Knife," Fenrir said simply, his eyebrow arching anyway.

Emma sucked in a sharp breath, and a helpless giggle escaped her lips. She should have figured that Fenrir would remember that she had a knife. It had become second nature to carry it with her everywhere, and she had taken to putting it in different places. She refused to go anywhere without it.

"Remembered that one, eh?" Emma asked, scratching her head.

"Hard not to when you stabbed me with it, you little shit," Fenrir said dryly. "Now – knife."

Emma stared hard at Fenrir, running her tongue over her teeth. Her current hiding spot for the knife was very unfortunate, and Fenrir refused to look away from her. She huffed out a breath and reached down into the front of her dress to find her knife, which she had tucked into her bra. It was impractical, and Emma knew it, but at least she carried it. If she didn't have her coat, it wasn't like she had pockets to carry it, so down her dress it went.

Fenrir's brows lifted in surprise, and an amused smile crossed his face as Emma pulled the knife out and deposited it on the bar counter. She wished she had thought of having a second one, but the thought was fleeting as she felt a slight breeze blow over her. The barman gave a small shrug as Emma shot him a look, putting his wand away and pulling both wands and Emma's knife behind the counter.

"Thought I should check, considering you hid the knife," the barman said in explanation as he returned to what he was doing. "Not looking for any bloodshed in my pub today."

"Wouldn't expect it with this little one, eh?" Fenrir said gruffly, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Might be small, but she'll strike if she feels like it."

"Technically, I didn't completely stab you," Emma muttered under her breath and crossing her arms once more. "You're the one who decided that it would be all right to impale yourself on the damn knife."

"You were taking too long, and you had to do it right."

"Doesn't mean that you should have kept going," Emma said with a shudder. She would much rather forget that particular memory. "Lead the way, Fen."

Fenrir rolled his eyes and grabbed lightly onto the back of Emma's neck to steer her towards a shadowy corner. She would have been more than content with one of the tables near the building entrance, but Fenrir had other ideas. Fenrir stopped at a booth and gestured for Emma's coat. Emma rolled her eyes, mildly annoyed at Fenrir's attempt at a gentlemanly display, but she allowed him to help her out of the oversized jacket. She had no idea just how exposed she would suddenly feel in just her dress. A disbelieving laugh escaped her lips when Fenrir went to pull out her chair, and Emma slammed her hand down onto the seat's back, pinning Fenrir with a stare.

"I can do that myself, thanks," she said firmly, an eyebrow lifting in challenge. Emma planned to play Fenrir's game just as well as he did, and she was pleased when he raised his hands in surrender with a smirk. He studied Emma for a long moment before draping her coat over the top of the chair next to her and proceeding to sit across from her.

Emma finally allowed herself to fully look at Fenrir, her lips twitching slightly at the irony they matched. He was back to his menacing self, his clothes barely fitting. His button-up shirt was in a similar red to her dress; the top buttons were undone to allow the fabric to stretch over his chest. Fenrir had acquired yet another new coat, which he was just shrugging out of, so the one she was wearing was the one he had last. She had noticed he was wearing his boots as well, and as usual, his trousers were obscenely tight. Emma didn't think his trousers could be comfortable at all, and she had to quickly look away. His trousers never left much to the imagination, and there were certain things she just didn't need to think about.

Fenrir leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied Emma. He was quiet, gaze searching and wary, and it made Emma worried. She was surprised to find that she felt okay around Fenrir, but she didn't like how he looked at her as if he was trying to figure her out. She felt surprisingly relaxed – anxious, but relaxed. At least now that Emma was looking at Fenrir for the first time in a month and a half, she could say that she was _not_ attracted to him.

It was a very small comfort to make that realization with definitive clarity, but it was a comfort all the same. She had a type, and Fenrir most definitely was not it, but his son certainly was. Funny how that worked out.

"How is it you have somehow become more beautiful since the last time I saw you?" Fenrir finally asked, scratching his beard.

"You're getting old, Fen," Emma snorted. "Do werewolves have glasses? It might ruin your entire look, but it _might_ be worth looking into. Hardly think I've changed enough for you to even think of making such a comment."

"And yet…"

"And yet what?"

"And yet you _are_ different."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning you wouldn't dare have been caught in a dress like that at the end of the summer," Fenrir said pointedly, eyes tracing over her bare shoulders. A pleased smile crossed his face as his gaze settled on the bite on her shoulder. Emma suddenly regretted choosing a dress with such thin straps, and she held herself a little closer as his eyes lifted to meet hers. "You're more confident in yourself now. It's refreshing. I thought I was going to have to start at square one all over again with you, but it doesn't appear that way at all."

"Well, it's not as though the scars are going anywhere," Emma said, casting her gaze elsewhere. "And considering all the things that have been said about me, I'm not too sure that it matters anymore. It's not as though they're a secret."

"And they shouldn't be," Fenrir replied. "You know I always found it foolish that you were trying to hide what you are."

"But I'm _not_ a werewolf, Fenrir. I can't hide something that I'm not."

"You might as well be. And is that not why we're having this conversation today?"

Emma frowned as she looked over at Fenrir and turned her attention to the barely lit fireplace. "Just jumping right into things, eh, Fenrir?" she asked, shifting nervously.

"I'm afraid I have places to be today," Fenrir sighed. He smirked when Emma eyed him curiously, her expression possibly a little too hopeful. "Oh, no, we're not putting off our little conversation again, fy lleuad. A deal's a deal, Emma. One way or another I'll be leaving here knowing your final decision."

She was herself that day; that was a mild relief. If Fenrir called her Rabbit, she would have worried that he would take her less seriously.

"But that doesn't mean I don't have time to hear about how you've been," Fenrir added with a smirk. "I'd ask you if you want a drink, but I'm not too sure that it's a good idea considering your history of overindulgence."

"It was one time," Emma grumbled. "Besides, I wouldn't want one anyway."

"Because you're meeting with your father?"

"Yes," Emma answered. She was glad that the question was phrased in a way that she wasn't lying. As long as she could keep her mind off of Greyson, it would be fine. "I heard you talked to him. What about?"

"Nothing that concerns you," Fenrir said, waving her off.

"It's my father. Of course, it concerns me," Emma said.

"And you have yet to give me an answer."

"You're the one who insisted on playing catch up with me, so obviously, I won't have given you an answer."

"Then let's continue with catching up first, yes? If I didn't know any better, I would think you're trying to worm your way out of things again, but you wouldn't do that, would you?"

"Wouldn't dare think of it."

"So, how's your boyfriend?" Fenrir asked, dropping an arm onto the chair next to him and leaning back a little further in his chair.

Emma tried to stop her sharp intake of breath before it happened, but it slipped out of her audibly. She wasn't expecting Fenrir to jump right into personal questions, and she was annoyed with herself for not considering it. It was stupid of her to not entertain the idea that Fenrir would be very interested to know about that. They already strayed into dangerous territory, and Emma was wracking her brain to figure out how to get out of it. However, the curious glint in his eyes and the slight twitch of his lips told her she was in trouble. Fenrir was intrigued, and a curious Fenrir was possibly one of the most dangerous versions of all.

"We broke up," Emma said simply. She very much wished that she had a glass of Firewhiskey to nurse, just to ease her nerves and keep her calm.

"Why?" he asked, not bothering to hide his amused tone.

"We were…incompatible," Emma shrugged. She wasn't expecting Fenrir's response.

"You're such a fucking liar," he said, a brow twitching slightly upward.

"What?" Emma asked slowly.

"You spent days bitching about him being your cousin, decided it was fine, and now you've decided that you're 'incompatible?'" Fenrir leaned slightly forward towards her, eyes narrowing slightly as he searched her face. "I call horseshit."

"It's not a lie, Fen," Emma insisted. "We got back to school, and he got all weird. You already knew I decided to give things a try, and then I realized it wasn't working. There was no point in wasting time in something that was going nowhere."

"So, you broke up with him?"

"No," Emma mumbled, crossing her arms. "The day I went to break up with him, he wound up beating me to it."

"Then he broke up with you," Fenrir said simply. "But you haven't been entirely innocent, have you?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, when your letters to me were less than satisfactory, I decided to go through the little songbird. Imagine my surprise when she informed me that you've been, ah, we'll say much more relaxed than you normally are," Fenrir said, leaning a little more forward in his chair. "So, tell me, was he at least good?"

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ Emma repeated to herself in her head. She didn't know that Fenrir talked to Persephone and had no idea what could have been said. If Persephone didn't tell Fenrir about Greyson before, she would hope that Fenrir was still left in the dark, but he still knew too much. He was going to be curious about who it was she was with. Emma swallowed hard, shifting herself nervously in her chair.

"Pardon me?" Emma managed to ask through her very dry mouth.

"Well, if you've been as relaxed as she said, I imagine you would have fucked whoever he is. I remember how high strung you were. For you to be as relaxed – as confident as you are – then there was some sort of…release. Did you enjoy yourself? You needed a good lay."

"Shitting hell, Fen," Emma said sharply. She wasn't sure if Fenrir's phrasing was because he genuinely didn't know about Greyson or if he was waiting for her to admit to everything. The conversation could go wrong quickly and very fast. "No, I didn't fuck him."

Not for lack of trying, of course, but Fenrir didn't need to know that. Fenrir's amusement only seemed to grow, and Emma could swear that she saw his eyes glittering. Soleil, who had been silent the entire time finally decided to lift her head with a low growl. At least she knew that Soleil wouldn't give away that one secret.

"Ah, so it _is_ a boy then," he said. "And you didn't fuck him? I'm surprised."

 _He doesn't know_ , Soleil purred. _We're still safe_. _But tread carefully – you know of Fenrir's tricks. He will use them to get the information he wants._

It was always odd to Emma when Soleil spoke in human words in a voice that was terrifyingly similar to her own. _Was_ it her own voice? Soleil often communicated in barks and growls and snapping teeth, rarely using a language Emma fully understood. Soleil's language had evolved over time from more simplistic but more archaic words into one more similar to her own. It compounded the whole Jekyll and Hyde analogy she made the year before a little scarier at how accurate it was. Was it normal for the wolf to be able to communicate so easily like Soleil was? She would reserve that particular question for Remus. At least Soleil got the impression Fenrir had no idea about Greyson.

"I didn't want the first time I had sex to be rushed all to appease your sick need for me to not be a virgin," Emma said firmly. "Yes, it was, in fact, a boy."

"And you haven't fucked him?"

"I already told you, I'm not rushing the first time I have sex, Fenrir. Believe me, it wasn't for lack of trying, if you must know. But I doubt it'll happen at all," Emma muttered. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd much rather not talk about my sex life, or lack thereof, and move along. You said you wanted to know how I've been, and I would like to think you see me as more than an object for sex. I've got other qualities, you know."

Fenrir looked delighted, stroking his beard with his aggravatingly pleased smile.

"Gods, I forgot how perfect you are," Fenrir said, his tone somewhat proud. "Absolutely beautiful and now very clearly willing to take what she wants. Didn't realize how much good it would be for you to be away from me for a little while. Did you miss me at all?"

"Could anyone ever really miss you?" Emma questioned bitterly.

The smile on Fenrir's face slipped slightly, and Emma thought she might have annoyed him. His gaze was once again searching, and he hummed thoughtfully.

"Perhaps something to take the edge off would be best," he said, standing up. "Clearly, you've been keeping a lot out of those letters of yours." He studied Emma for a minute longer as if judging what was best and made his way over to the bar.

Emma ran her hands over her face, trying to process what was going on. She had no idea what to expect from her meeting with Fenrir, but this was most definitely _not_ it. How was it only a month and a half apart from Fenrir made her forget everything she needed to know. She knew that Fenrir was sneaky, and he wasn't going to be any different now. The fact he just jumped right into personal questions was nerve-wracking, her stomach churning with anxiety. All it would take is one accidental slip, one wrong thing being said, and everything would unravel.

Fenrir dropped a bottle in front of her, and Emma sighed. She would have preferred the glass of Firewhiskey Fenrir held, but the dusty bottle of Butterbeer would have to do. Emma stared at the bottle for a moment and then grabbed tight to it, prying off the rusted top. She slowly lifted the bottle up to her lips and took a drink.

"You know, I wasn't expecting you to dress up for me," Fenrir said, fingers dancing along her bare shoulder. His fingers brushed against her bite mark, and she shivered at the feeling. Fenrir's fingers were rough and calloused and felt odd against her smooth skin. She didn't like it. "I'm proud of you for not destroying my coat again."

"Just wanted to wear something different," Emma lied, watching as Fenrir finally took his seat across from her. "Gets a bit boring wearing the same uniform every single day. I didn't expect that we would wind up matching, and I told you – I never found a new coat. I'm not stupid."

Fenrir's gaze was off-putting – entirely too focused and searching for her liking. Emma knew she wasn't acting normally, but she still hadn't recovered from the day before.

"What's wrong?" he asked, eyes narrowed.

"Nothing," Emma muttered, taking a long swig of her Butterbeer. She let the butterscotch drink sit on her tongue for a moment, face scrunching up at the sweetness before swallowing. The minuscule amount of alcohol in the drink wasn't going to do much at all.

Emma let out a soft gasp of surprise as Fenrir leaned forward across the table, grabbing her chin and tipping her face up to look at him. If she wasn't used to Fenrir's rough behavior, she would have been more concerned. It wasn't his usual bruising grip, but it was firm.

"What is wrong with you?" he repeated with the hint of a growl.

Emma would say it over and over again, but she hated this version of Fenrir. She hated how he would issue silent challenges with her, pulling out the parts of her she kept hidden. She hated that he ever pretended that he cared about her outside of his twisted visions. Most of all, Emma hated how in just one gesture, she found herself slipping back into her younger self, a part of her still clinging to the need for his approval.

"I don't know where I belong," Emma supplied weakly. It was the first thing she could think of to get him to release her, and they were alone. None of the Hog's Head patrons would dare tell anyone how she could be a little more open with Fenrir because he was honest with her. He searched her eyes for a painfully long few seconds and released her, sitting back in his chair, gesturing for her to continue.

Emma sighed, taking a steadying breath and setting her Butterbeer bottle down with shaky hands. "Until yesterday, I thought I understood myself. I thought I had a good idea of where I actually fit in," Emma said quietly. She lifted her gaze up slightly to meet Fenrir's, hating herself for even admitting that much, but now that she started, she wouldn't be able to stop. "I've had to listen to what others say since the start of term, listen to the things they think about me. I've had to deal with multiple death threats, all of which were unexpected. Even now, they still talk about me, and each time I have to pretend it doesn't bother me. I thought that I could handle things, but…"

"You want to belong somewhere where you're not judged."

"I feel like that makes me selfish."

"For wanting to feel like you belong?"

"Yes," Emma said, taking another drink.

"You feel guilty."

"Yes," Emma said with a small nod.

"Why?"

"Because I know there are people who love me. People who…who think that I can be worth more; people who think that I still have a chance at doing the things I want to."

"And you don't think that you can do that with me?"

"I don't know," Emma said quietly, huffing out a laugh. "Is this the part where you decide to sell me on the pack?"

"Not yet," Fenrir replied. "There's more to this, and I want to know what your issue is all of a sudden. Why did you bring up yesterday specifically?"

It was odd for her to see Fenrir look genuinely concerned for her. The expression on his face was one she had seen a few times at Persephone's and while back at the children's home, but it still seemed odd. She had started to attribute it to Fenrir seeing her as a lost pup, his concern manifesting from his need to care for his pack. That was a good sign, at least.

"Er, two reasons," Emma muttered. "First is I might have accidentally managed to have people convinced that I've aligned myself entirely with you and werewolf supremacy, and second, I might have had a moment that scared me with Soleil."

Fenrir looked torn on which part of her statement to focus on, and he ran his tongue over his teeth as he contemplated. He slowly lifted his glass to his lips to take a drink of his whiskey.

"And how, pray tell, did you somehow manage to achieve the first thing?" Fenrir asked slowly.

"Er, _well_ , one of my classmates decided that they wanted to create a group to bring awareness to the lack of house-elves rights –" Fenrir practically choked on his drink, to Emma's amusement "– and I might have gone off on her about how stupid it was. I very pointedly mentioned that she was ignorant to the matters of magical creatures and mentioned that there was an issue much closer to home. If she was going to concern herself with anything, I didn't understand why it had to be house-elves. That, unfortunately, got people talking again just as the rumor mill was dying out. So, I'm a bit worried about someone seeing me with you, honestly."

"And the issue with Soleil?"

"I believe in one of my letters to you, I mentioned that we were covering the Unforgivable Curses in Defense," Emma said slowly.

"Yes, I do believe I recall you writing and telling me that."

"Well, yesterday we had the Imperius Curse cast on us," Emma said, flinching at the darkening look in Fenrir's eyes. The muscle in his jaw jumped, and his grip on the rim of his glass tightened. Emma worried that if he squeezed any harder, the glass would shatter. "Uhm, I don't know exactly how it happened, but I broke through it…or Soleil did, rather. I thought with the Wolfsbane Potion, she would be quiet, but she wasn't, and she just took over, I think. I don't recall any of it. Why was that at all possible?"

Fenrir's darkened expression shifted to intrigue, and he set his glass down after a long drink. He studied Emma closely, eyes narrowed and unblinking.

"I wanted to know more about how you've been, but I think now's where I need to sell you on the idea of the pack," Fenrir said. "But I question if I even need to do that. Has your answer changed since the summer?"

Emma frowned at that, opening her mouth to protest and say that it had changed, but had it really? At the end of the summer, she was _sure_ of her plan and knew exactly what she wanted to do, but Greyson changed everything. Greyson made her truly and honestly believe that she was worth more than what Fenrir planned for her. She loved the idea of their little apothecary, growing their own plants, and brewing potions together. It was such a lovely idea, one that wasn't out of the realm of possibility, but then she also wanted to take Fenrir down. She frequently thought about the children in the packs and the wasted potential they had.

"You're worth more," Greyson had told her nearly every time they were together in between his whispered promises. She wanted the life that Greyson tried to sell her, but she felt a certain sense of responsibility to the children in Fenrir's pack in a way she didn't understand. The children were worth more, too. She worried her lip between her teeth, trying to think as fast as she possibly could.

What was she supposed to do? She was pulled in too many different directions, and each thing she wanted seemed to sit on an equal playing field. Emma wanted to somehow make a life with Greyson if he would have her. She wanted to ruin Fenrir and make things better for other werewolves. She wanted to give the children a chance at a better life. But had she been looking at things entirely the wrong way?

What if there was a possibility that she could have _everything_?

It would be difficult, of course, but her father had Sirius while in Fenrir's pack. Sirius didn't leave her father, even when he had an idea of what was going on. Keeping Greyson a secret would be a challenge, but that would be fine. It wasn't like Fenrir would bother her every day of her life while still in school. If Sirius could handle Remus being in Fenrir's pack, could Greyson accept her the same way? Of course, there were the issues of them not trusting each other, but it was a war. They were in peacetime now, and Fenrir appeared to only want her answer on joining his pack as he had something else to do. Everything else could be figured out later.

The potential new possibilities seemed endless. What if she could have so much more than what she thought?

"No," Emma said quietly, trying to ignore the excited glint in Fenrir's eyes.

"Good," Fenrir practically purred. "That will make the rest of this easier. You said that you wanted explanations before the end of the summer."

"I did," Emma said quietly.

"Then you'll get them. But I don't have enough time to explain everything."

Emma sat up a little straighter, curious to know where the conversation would go. She had been waiting months for Fenrir to give her an explanation of things.

"First and foremost, you're a threat," Fenrir said, making Emma blink owlishly at him in surprise. "Not just to yourself, but to me. I don't like it."

"To myself?" Emma questioned.

"The reason you don't remember a thing from the Imperius is because you're fighting yourself too hard. If you were to truly be working with Soleil, as you should, you would have been fully aware of everything that was happening. There's absolutely no reason why you should have been affected by the Imperius Curse at all if you didn't cling so hard to the human side of yourself. It's also a problem that it was cast on you when it's known you have spell damage from the Cruciatus, but that's not the issue."

"The issue is that I'm a threat?"

"Yes," Fenrir said, holding himself a little taller. Not quite dominating, but with authority. "The moment I realized you were willing to challenge me, you became a threat. I had two options – get rid of you myself earlier or see what you would decide."

"But you waited."

"I waited until today."

"So, what? You would have killed me if I were to tell you I changed my mind?"

"I would have tried one more time to get you to see things my way. If you were unwilling, well, let's just say you wouldn't have been walking out of here once I was done with you."

Emma's stomach took a sudden dip south, and she thought she might be sick. It wasn't the first time Fenrir had threatened to kill her, but the sudden, almost monotone bluntness hurt in a way she didn't expect. Emma searched Fenrir's eyes, hoping to find that he was lying to her, but there was nothing to deny it. In fact, he looked excited by the idea. When she realized he was telling the truth, she averted her eyes and swallowed hard. She could only imagine what Fenrir would have done to her, and she cleared her throat. The last conversation she had with him at Saint Nicholas's suddenly didn't seem like it was his way of scaring her – he would have killed her then, too.

"I sense there's a 'but' to this entire thing," Emma said quietly.

"The 'but' is Jude."

"I don't care about Jude," Emma sneered, eyes shooting back up to meet Fenrir's.

"But Jude cares about you," Fenrir said. "Well, in the sense that he's quite invested in figuring out ways to get rid of you. He's why I can't stay."

"Because you're still working with him?"

"I consider it a courtesy," Fenrir shrugged. "He's a bastard, and I can't fucking stand him, but I can respect his ambition. Either way, I was leaving here to tell him I took care of things myself or you made the right decision. I'm pleased that it's the latter."

"Only because you want – buggering fuck – only because you want pups, isn't it?"

Fenrir tilted his head from side to side like he was weighing the possibility. "That's not the only reason," Fenrir admitted. "Like I said, you're a threat to me, but with you being at my side where you belong, I'm willing to work as equals."

"So, you agree to the idea of a partnership, like I asked? More than mates?"

"Provided we can come to terms we both agree on, but we'll save that for next time."

Emma took a swig of Butterbeer, licking her lips to clear them of the overly sweet drink, and studied Fenrir. She wasn't expecting him to be so agreeable, but then she remembered the last few days at Persephone's.

"But that's another issue," Fenrir said. "The moment Jude finds out, he's going to be relentless. That means more work for me. He's already less than thrilled that you ruined his chance at getting his job back at the Ministry."

"Well, he should have thought about that before attacking me, the bastard."

"Doesn't change that it happened, but you're in more danger from him now. He's determined to take his mark when the Dark Lord returns, and he plans to get it through you."

"How? Why me?"

"Because it was always meant to be you who died in the first place, not your precious mother. The daughter of a Black? While the Dark Lord would have been upset by losing valuable magical blood, he would have approved of your death."

Emma hadn't thought about her mother in months. She had been so preoccupied with everything else that trying to find the answers to that situation had fallen to the wayside.

"What did Jude have at the time, then?" Emma asked, trying to ignore the tightness in her chest. "He showed you something, didn't he?"

"It was a false mark. I knew right away it wasn't real."

"And yet you went along with things."

"Who was I to pass up a gift? You were a guaranteed bargaining chip for us."

"And that's why Jude said to wait until I was seventeen to do anything to me?"

"It gave us time. None of us knew where the war was heading. If we needed leverage, you were perfect – an heir to the Black family, female or not, was beneficial. Jude wanted nothing to do with you, and if it came down to it, he would have had the dog sign the papers. But then things ended as they did. That left us with a problem as certain plans had already taken place and we had no idea what to do with you. So, it was decided we keep you somewhere no one would think to find you. At seventeen, you would be of age - whatever happened to you was no longer anyone's responsibility. But now that you're more wolf than human, that changed again, and well, that works to my advantage. Quite honestly, you were never meant to make it past eleven."

"But then _you_ decided that I was worth keeping."

"Correct."

"Well, that's completely fucked."

"It was war."

"And then it wasn't."

"And then it wasn't," Fenrir agreed.

"Why doesn't Jude have the mark?"

A near-feral grin crossed Fenrir's face. "Because he's Muggle-born, remember?" Fenrir asked. "The Dark Lord reserves the mark for his most loyal of followers, mostly pure-bloods."

"The Dark Mark – would he be able to actually get it if it's true Voldemort's returning?"

"Ah, and that's the issue at hand," Fenrir said as if Emma had just solved a very complicated puzzle. "I can't say one way or another. According to Wormtail, there's a strong possibility. The rat seems to think that Voldemort's most loyal followers will get a free pass, but if Jude kills you, then it's nearly guaranteed for him regardless. If it weren't for me, he would have killed you already."

"And you?"

"What about me?"

"Would _you_ take a mark?"

"I never would have taken it the first time even if he offered. What makes you think I would take it this time?"

"You're essentially a free agent, then?"

"I go where it benefits the packs. Don't get me wrong, I will work with the Dark Lord, but I serve only myself, and the packs serve me."

"And what of me?"

The smile and words Fenrir said next sent a chill down Emma's spine. "And now you'll be serving along with me," he said, his gaze raking over her far too long for her liking. "I told you that you're mine, and I want to control you, but you want power."

"I do," Emma said slowly. "And you took that into consideration?"

"I did. And do you understand how your wanting power makes you a threat to me?"

"No."

"Do you not see an issue with how you speak to me sometimes? Things that you say that would give me a reason to be concerned about your motives after I had time to really think of what you've said?"

"No," Emma said even more slowly, drawing out the word so it lifted at the end in question.

"You wouldn't, would you?" Fenrir asked with a grunt. "A pack, Emma? Have you never thought about how that would be concerning to me?"

"No, should I?"

"Only Alphas make packs."

 _Oh_. That _would_ be a bit of a problem, wouldn't it? Emma felt herself grow pale, and she silently cursed Soleil. Fenrir had to have an idea of what she was planning, and she wasn't intentionally trying to give that away. She knew that mentioning wanting power would be a problem in itself, but she had no idea her phrasing of things was too specific. How was she supposed to know that? How was she meant to get around this one?

"You're the one who conflated pack with family, Fen," Emma said pointedly. "You can't claim that was something I came to entirely on my own. And the wolves in my pack are the ones in yours, so wouldn't it be the same?"

"Not the same at all, and that's the problem. I know what lies in your future."

"What lies in my future, then, Fen? You've never told me."

Fenrir glanced over Emma's head towards the clock near the bar.

"Then it's time I do," he said, standing up. "I have just enough time to show you and finish things up before I have to leave."

Seemingly seconds later, Fenrir returned to the table with a cup of tea, and Emma eyed him suspiciously as he set it in front of her. If she wasn't turned off by the idea of drinking from the cup of tea, she was turned off by what the cup already implied.

"Fenrir, please don't tell me that you're going to read my _tea leaves_ ," Emma said sharply. She knew that Fenrir enjoyed divination, but even this was too much for her. It was admittedly a quick way of predicting the future in a timely fashion, but she almost would have preferred palmistry.

"It's the easiest and most convenient way," Fenrir said, pushing the cup even closer towards Emma. "Drink."

"And what happens if my tea leaves aren't to your satisfaction?"

"They will be. Drink," Fenrir repeated.

Emma sighed, picking up the cup of tea and staring down at it with distaste.

"Fenrir, I swear if this is some sort of sick joke, I am going to take my chances," Emma muttered. "Don't think I would get far, but I will be damned if I don't try."

She swore that the tea tasted even more bitter than it should have. Emma wasn't sure if it was from the cup being dusty or the fact that Fenrir gave her little opportunity to actually let it cool long enough. It was hot and burned her throat unpleasantly, but she was curious to know what nonsense Fenrir wanted to show her. Emma coughed when she made it to the end of the cup, swirled what was left, and tipped the cup upside down onto the saucer. With a pointed stare, Emma pushed the cup towards Fenrir.

"Go on," Emma muttered, crossing her arms and glowering at Fenrir's smug smile. He seemed to think that whatever he had been getting during his readings would be found in her tea leaves, but she wasn't convinced. It was the longest three minutes of her life.

Fenrir very slowly picked up Emma's cup, his face screwed up in concentration as he looked through what was there. His brows knit together, and Emma worried slightly that something had gone wrong, but then his eyes lit up.

"Just as it should be," Fenrir said, setting the cup down. "I think you should look for yourself," he said, pushing the cup towards her.

Emma was about to roll her eyes until she found herself looking at the clumps of tea leaves in her cup. The first thing she noticed was Gemini's symbol, something she didn't expect to see, and it made her curious.

She had seen a few of the signs in her own cups of tea when she was bored and curious – a laurel for power, an oak tree that could either be for strength or happiness, perhaps both, figures that could be a man and a woman, but some were new. The ring was unexpected, but it was the letter G and the letter F sitting so close to the sign for Gemini that threw her off.

It seemed impossible that she would get a reading like this. A few more symbols popped out at her, a possible clover and something that could be a crown, but that wasn't her focus. It seemed impossible that this was the reading that she would get.

"Fen, is this what you get every time?" Emma asked, unable to pull her eyes away from her cup. She didn't think the letters were meant to stand for Fenrir but for Greyson.

"Just about every time. There are variances here and there, but the base is always the same. This is why you're still alive," Fenrir said, pulling the cup out of Emma's hands. He reached out and held tightly to one of her hands with both of his, leaning forward, so he was in her line of vision. "When you turned eleven, I started doing readings to see what was in your future. Do you recall the time you scraped your knee walking back from school the summer you left the hovel?"

"I…yes, barely," Emma said. "You…" she trailed off, trying to think of that day and what exactly Fenrir did. He had a vial with him for whatever odd reason, and he didn't explain what he was doing with it. She tried to work through everything that she knew and why Fenrir would ever take her blood, and she frowned. "Fenrir, you did blood magic, didn't you? To do your readings on me?"

"I did," Fenrir said. "Under the light of a nearly full moon, I performed a ritual to find out just what lay ahead for you, and it's brilliant. This entire time, you've had no idea what power you have, which is why I grew worried when you tried to kill yourself. The potential you have and what you'll grow to be is incredible, and to lose that...It would have been a terrible loss. You were always meant to be a wolf."

"Yet you would have killed me today? You _really_ would have killed me? You tell me it would be a loss if I would have killed myself, but yet you have no problem killing me yourself?"

"Of course, I would kill you. Do you think I would ever be stupid enough to let you walk out of here if I thought you would try to ruin what I've built? You are a threat to me because you _are_ power, but you said you want more – that you want to serve with me. Does that still hold true?" Fenrir asked, his gaze once again a little too searching for Emma's liking. She practically held her breath, trying to force Soleil to agree. Emma nodded slowly, and she nearly sighed in relief as a genuine smile crossed his face. Fenrir slowly released her hand, leaning back in his chair. "Then you have nothing to worry about. I still have my concerns over you, but Soleil seems willing. However, will you two figure out how to work together? You two are the very same, but you keep fighting her."

Emma's eyes darted between her cup of tea and Fenrir's face. What sort of magic did Fenrir use to learn about her future? They had never covered it in class, and she had no desire to dabble in it, but something was off. The sudden inclusion of Gemini in her cup was too specific, and Emma was fascinated. She hated divination, but it looked as though she was going to have to pay attention to it a little more. If she had any hope of understanding what Fenrir saw, she would have to learn more, and his sudden insistence she continue the subject made sense. He _wanted_ her to understand what he supposedly saw for her.

"So, Emma," Fenrir said slowly, pulling Emma's attention back to him. He searched her face once more, his tongue running over his teeth, and Emma's stomach did a flip. Fenrir hadn't officially asked for her answer just yet. She had hoped that she would get away without confirming anything, but he was business-like again.

"Normally, I wouldn't need things to be so formal, but you are a, uh…very special case to me, and I need to leave," Fenrir said slowly. "So, with the understanding we'll discuss the conditions of our partnership when we meet next, will you guarantee your loyalty – not just to pack, but to me? Will you promise to serve along with me and do whatever is asked of you in return for what I can provide you? I'm sure you understand very well the type of protection I can offer you, and you can benefit from learning how to work with Soleil. Besides, you know that you will always have a home with me."

Emma knew very well what Fenrir could provide her, and she watched as Fenrir held his hand out for her to shake. She had her worries, but she would be stupid if she didn't, and really Fenrir left her with few choices. Her wand was at the bar, and if she said no, he would kill her anyway. Her eyes darted between the cup, Fenrir's face, and then his hand. They hadn't even negotiated anything, so what was she really agreeing to?

"Time's ticking, Emma," Fenrir said, peering over her head at the clock. He was starting to look a little too excited by the potential of her changing her mind. His eyes were glittering, and his lips were beginning to pull back to bare his teeth. "If you don't answer me in another minute, I'll take it as you've changed your mind, and I'll be taking you out back and having my way with you. I know how your blood tastes now; I'm not entirely opposed to doing whatever I want to you and savoring every last inch of you afterward."

 _You know what must be done_ , Soleil told her as Emma's stomach did a nervous flip. _The young one will understand – we forgot of Fenrir's tricks. No one will fault you. Running will not get us far. You have your proof that the young one was always meant to be yours. Let Fenrir help us so that we can destroy him later. For now, we have more time to prepare._

Emma bit her lip, doing one more nervous scan between the cup, Fenrir's face, and his hand. Emma swallowed hard, peering down at her watch – there wasn't a lot of time. Fenrir had never lied to her before, and she doubted he would start now. If she changed her mind, he would kill her and take his time with it. It was a risky move, but Soleil was right.

"Yes, I'll join you," Emma said shakily, placing her hand in Fenrir's. Her stomach was knotting almost painfully, but she couldn't take her decision back now. "You have my loyalty."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH, FENRIR HAS RETURNED. For a moment.
> 
> So, do we think Fenrir knows about Greyson? Was it all a trick? What's the big bad wolf up to? HEHEHEHEHEH. We all knew what was happening in the end, right?
> 
> Anywayyyy to all of my late night readers, please go to sleep, thank you and good night!
> 
> **come find me on:**   
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> 


	45. Coming to Terms

Remus took pride in keeping himself level-headed, but Emma always seemed to make that difficult for him. His nerves were completely shot from talking to Fenrir, but knowing his only child was half-way across the village with the werewolf was even worse. Remus worried about Emma constantly, but knowing he had to let her willingly be around Fenrir made him sick. He had hated himself the entirety of the previous year for every time he wasn't in the village to keep her safe. To be there and not be able to do a thing at all? It made him sick. If it weren't for Emma, he would have left the Three Broomsticks and made his way back to the Hog's Head just in case. Fenrir still terrified him, but he would do whatever he could to keep Emma safe.

But instead of protecting his daughter like he should, he was sitting and waiting to meet Fenrir's son. He had to love Emma more than anything to be doing what he was.

Remus wasn't entirely disillusioned that Fenrir didn't know that he had a son, but he didn't understand why Greyson wasn't a full werewolf. Knowing Fenrir the way he did, it didn't make sense, especially since his son was older than Emma. A child wasn't exactly something Fenrir would pass up, and Greyson would have been pulled into the pack by the time Emma was even born. Remus couldn't figure out a single logical reason why Fenrir _wouldn't_ have pulled his son into the pack unless there was already a motive.

Being as pessimistic and cynical as he was, Remus was almost positive that Greyson's sudden appearance in Emma's life was set up. He worried over just how close Emma had gotten to Greyson, and his thoughts immediately began to spiral. He immediately went to the worst possible case scenario, that Greyson was meant to lure Emma so that Fenrir could get closer to her. Or worse, Greyson was very much like his father and realized she was a Black and would use that information to his advantage. It had been a long time since the magical community had seen a kidnapping, but if it would happen to anyone, Remus had no doubt it would be Emma. Again.

His mind had gone a million miles a minute, worry and fear plaguing him at every possible moment. Still, Elara tried to convince him otherwise.

Elara pointed out that no other werewolf seemed to know about Greyson. When Elara had reached out to the werewolves she knew just out of curiosity, they laughed. As far as anyone knew, Fenrir had no living biological children, only the werewolves he had made himself. There were rumors, of course, but no one had proof.

Greyson's entire existence was a mystery, and he was determined to figure out just how genuine he was. He wasn't about to let Emma get even more hurt when she was already in a perilous situation.

Remus's gaze lifted as the door to the Three Broomsticks opened, and he was met with a faintly familiar scent carrying on the breeze. He turned his head towards the door, following the scent, now curious. He could easily recognize Fenrir's scent, but it was light in the way that Emma's scent vaguely matched his. It was peculiar to scent it, and there was no doubt that any other werewolf would recognize it.

He allowed himself to take a good look at Greyson before he noticed him. He followed behind a group of giggling Ravenclaw girls. Remus was sure they were giggling over Greyson if the exasperated look on his face was anything to go by. He swore that he had worn a similar look for several months the previous year and almost felt bad for him.

Remus was surprised to find that Greyson looked much different in person than in Emma's photos. It was easy to see where Greyson looked like his father in pictures, but he looked completely different in person. Or at least Remus thought that until Greyson finally noticed him. Remus immediately understood why Emma had her hesitations. Greyson's eyes were very much his father's but didn't have the same predatory coldness. Knowing that Emma already had conflicting thoughts, he imagined it wasn't easy for his daughter to separate Greyson from his father. The fact that Emma had been able to do so made Remus wonder just what it was she saw in him.

Greyson was tall, which Remus expected, well-dressed, and held himself with an almost cocky confidence. He was well-groomed, his beard trimmed and hair neat. Remus cared little for fashion, having kept to the same signature staples for years. Still, he was amused to find Greyson dressed similarly to himself. Remus had to take a quick look down at himself and shake his head. While his daughter had unintentionally matched with Fenrir, Greyson had matched with him – a smart, knitted jumper layered over a button-down shirt and tie, trousers, oxfords, and an overcoat.

He found himself pleased to see that Greyson thought to pick up flowers for Emma. It was a small gesture, but it was a sweet one. Remus idly wondered if it meant he was a romantic or traditional, or both. All the same, he knew Emma would be tickled by it.

Greyson seemed to hesitate for only the smallest of moments before finally deciding to make his way over to the bar. The confidence he had appeared to melt away, and Remus hummed thoughtfully to himself – somewhere beneath his arrogant swagger was an unexpected uncertainty. This was something Remus was familiar with, having seen it multiple times in Sirius over the years. He was still wary of Greyson, but so far, his first impressions were in line with what Emma had told him.

Remus was surprised by just how nervous Greyson suddenly was when he made it over to the bar. Greyson was suddenly like a mix of a deer caught in headlights and a fish out of water, all wide eyes and mouth opening and closing. He was incredibly tense, holding himself very close together. It took Remus a few long seconds longer to realize that Greyson was scared of him, unsure of what to say. That was unexpected, and dear lord, he had to save the poor boy before he went into a panic.

"You brought me flowers?" Remus asked conversationally, looking down at the bouquet in Greyson's hand that was practically in a stranglehold. "You shouldn't have."

Greyson's brow furrowed in confusion. He looked down at the bouquet in his hand and then back up at Remus, relaxing slightly at the smile on Remus's face.

"I mean, they _could_ be for you if you'd like," Greyson said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't see you for a flower type from what Emma's told me."

Remus was surprised at just how much Greyson sounded like Sirius. It was a very London accent, posh and proper.

"No, that would be…" Remus trailed off, suddenly unsure of what to say. He knew that Greyson knew about Sirius and had been very unamused to find out just how much information Emma divulged. He didn't like the idea of another person knowing about Sirius's whereabouts, but nothing terrible had happened. Remus planned to keep it that way. "That wouldn't be me," he finally settled on. He gestured to the seat next to him, and Greyson sat down, still tense.

"Thank you for, erm, taking the time to meet me, Mr. Lupin," Greyson said, holding his hand out. "I know we've written, but, hello – I'm Greyson Fenmore. Junior," he added with a slight wince.

"Oh, bloody hell, it was one thing to be called Mr. Lupin while I was teaching, but it makes me sound far too old," Remus said, shaking Greyson's hand. "Please, just call me Remus. Didn't realize it would make me sound like my father to be called Mr. Lupin outside of a classroom."

"I'm sorry," Greyson said, clearing his throat nervously. "I'm sure this is…very odd to you."

"Hmm, quite," Remus agreed. "Would you like a drink?"

"Ah, I suppose a Butterbeer would be more than all right, thank you," Greyson said. "I'm not really much of a drinker."

"Really?" Remus asked in surprise. He cast Greyson a side-long glance in curiosity, trying to decipher whether or not he only said it because of Emma. "Neither am I. Any particular reason why?"

"I got most of my drinking out of the way a few years ago," Greyson said quietly. "It's not very beneficial when working with potions. I prefer to keep a clear head. I'll have a pint or two when I'm out with my mates, but nothing too extreme."

Remus could respect that decision. The Marauders had been known for having lengthy, night-long parties with heavy drinking. Unfortunately, he didn't grow out of it until he had to so that he could take care of Emma. If things were different, he was still sure he would still be drinking excessively if he wasn't dead.

"For me, it's a personal choice," Remus said, quickly ordering two Butterbeer. "I'll have a glass of wine here and there, but I avoid anything strong. I was quite partial to rum and whiskey for some time."

"I think for me it was whatever I could get my hand on," Greyson admitted, taking his bottle of Butterbeer and opening it. "I'm not proud of it. Now I prefer a decent beer. Or Butterbeer like today."

"Respectable," Remus said. "Certainly can't complain about a good beer. So, why don't you tell me a little bit more about yourself? I know you mentioned that you lived with your aunt and uncle?"

"Lived with my aunt and uncle up until nearly two months ago. They raised me as their child, but I grew up with my cousins from my other uncle. There's four of us in total, and I think we're pretty close – might as well be siblings, honestly," Greyson said. "I'm obviously the only magical one, which is unfortunate. I've spent my time traveling after graduating to work on my Mastery."

"Where have you traveled to?"

"Oh, not too far at all. France, Norway, Italy, Spain…haven't had a chance to go far with work."

"We never did get around to discussing what you actually do outside of your Mastery work."

"I, er, well…" Greyson chuckled nervously. "I mostly stick to Muggle employment to avoid people knowing who I am. Coffee shops and the whatnot, although I enjoyed working in a library."

"I can…I can understand that," Remus said quietly. "I understand that all too well."

"It's just easier to hide sometimes."

"And you want to teach?"

"I'd love to teach. I enjoyed my time working on my requirements for my Mastery. It was a bit odd to try and work through each year and cater to different skill levels, but everyone brought their own challenges."

"Where would you like to teach?"

"I was looking at Castelobruxo, actually, but now I'm starting to think I'd rather be somewhere closer to home."

"Any particular reason why you'd pass up the opportunity to teach in Brazil? I would think that would be a much better use of your time than staying around here."

"I think you know the answer to that question, sir."

Remus hummed thoughtfully, taking a drink. "I'm sure that you can understand that I have my concerns," Remus said slowly.

"You're a father with a daughter. I wouldn't expect anything less," Greyson said. "And especially more so with me."

"For several reasons, yes," Remus said. "But the main reason probably isn't what you think."

"It's not because –"

"It's not because of your father, no. However, that is obviously a concern of mine," Remus admitted. "No, my issue is that you're older than her. She is mature for her age and is more than capable of making her own decisions, but I will not stand for you taking advantage of her."

"I would never, sir," Greyson said earnestly. "Emma and I have had several very long conversations. I was beyond horrified when she told me what she's gone through, and honestly, if I had known her, especially more recently, I would have done something. I don't know what I would have done, but all the same, I wouldn't dream of hurting her."

"Good," Remus said simply. "I'm sure you understand that if you were to ever hurt her, it wouldn't end well at all."

"I fear that Emma would be the one to hurt me and not the other way around," Greyson said quietly, almost nervously. "About broke my heart when she didn't let me interview for the tutoring position, but it made sense. Then she proceeded to truly break my heart by telling me she needed time and insisted that I did as well when I asked her to be my girlfriend."

"Well, that certainly does sound like something my daughter would do," Remus reluctantly admitted. He lifted his bottle of Butterbeer up to his lips and shook his head. "It _really_ sounds like something she would do. But clearly she didn't break your heart enough to keep you away."

"I think it would take far worse than that to keep me from trying again," Greyson said quietly.

"Excellent, that means you'll be able to handle where this conversation heads next," Remus said brightly. "How many girlfriends have you had?"

Greyson looked slightly taken aback and cleared his throat. "Three," he said. "Two while in school, one when I graduated. Emma would be my fourth…er, if it was all right."

"That remains to be seen. Why exactly do you want to date my daughter?" Remus asked. "Surely there are other witches your age that you would be interested in."

"There was until I met Emma," Greyson said quietly. "And Emma knows that I was talking to someone, but it was nothing serious. We were just getting to know each other. If I have to wait to be with Emma, then I'll wait as long as I have to. She managed to captivate me in a way I didn't think possible. I was fascinated with her after reading the articles in the Prophet. I was fascinated, but I was angry with her, and I didn't even know her. Those articles painted her as…as the exact opposite of what she really is. They vilified her all because of her connection to my father, and I thought she would be exactly like him. The same with you, really. When they reported she was attacked…" Greyson trailed off, staring down at his bottle of Butterbeer just to find something to focus on. His voice was much softer when he spoke, "I wasn't sure what I would do if I ever ran into her, but I didn't think it would happen given how large the community is. Imagine my surprise when I ran into her in Flourish and Blotts but then proceeded to make an absolute arse of myself. I still regret what I said."

"I do recall Emma mentioning something about Flourish and Blotts," Remus said.

"And I'm sure she had nothing kind to say about me then."

"Oh, definitely not," Remus admitted, remembering the very long night of reading what Emma had to write to him.

"I don't blame her," Greyson said, huffing out a laugh and taking a swig of Butterbeer. He was quiet for a long moment, running through his thoughts, fingers drumming on the bar top. "I know I certainly didn't have anything nice to say about myself after that. I knew I was terrible, reaching for whatever I could just to keep her away. I was scared. The look she gave me still haunts me, so accusatory and like I was…like I was my father. Up until that point, I thought I had escaped the possibility of having to witness someone looking at me with fear. And to make it worse, and I know it sounds terribly cliché, but before we actually looked at each other, I felt like I had known her my whole life. The moment her hand was in mine, I felt excited by the idea of a future with this still faceless, tiny, and shy young woman. Then it all fell apart in seconds because why would she ever want to be with me? So, I decided to be an absolute knobhead and try and make it so that I would never have to worry about it."

"You went on the defensive," Remus said in understanding.

"Very much," Greyson said, paling slightly. "And then Persephone explained everything to me and –"

"Persephone?" Remus questioned. "Surely you don't mean Persephone Moon?"

"The same," Greyson said slowly. "I'm sure that you're well-versed in knowing all about Slytherin loyalty from Emma? That it doesn't matter what year another Slytherin is, we're all meant to take care of each other?"

"I am," Remus said. "Not just from Emma, of course. But it seems curious that you would be friends with a first year while in your seventh. It's not out of the realm of possibility, but it's surprising to me."

"Well, I never would have been normally," Greyson admitted. "But she came to me and was…well, she was quite forward in telling me that she knew exactly who I was the first week of term. Said that her family was very familiar with my father, but she wouldn't say a word. We've had a friendship of sorts over the years, but I can't say that we've ever been truly close. I've been fortunate with having very few people know the truth about who my father is. I've had people ask me, and normally I outright deny it, but Persephone made it difficult."

Remus fell silent, setting his bottle of Butterbeer down. That was unexpected information to hear, and he wasn't entirely sure of what to think of it. Remus knew that Persephone knew of Greyson because Emma told him, but it seemed like their friendship went further than even Emma realized. It seemed odd the Persephone would go up to Greyson to tell him such a thing, and it was bizarre that she felt the need. Remus wasn't sure if he thought it was done as some form of blackmail or the incredible lack of tact from an eleven-year-old. He was starting to feel as though Fenrir already knew about his son, but that still raised more questions. Was Greyson being set up in the same way Emma was? But that didn't explain why Emma didn't know about Greyson her first year and –

"I'm sorry," Greyson said quietly, breaking through Remus's thoughts. "Did I…did just I say something wrong?"

"No," Remus said, shaking his head. "I apologize. I didn't realize that you had a friendship with Persephone at all."

"It's been on and off over the years, nothing consistent except in the past year."

"I'd still like to know why exactly you want to date my daughter, but you've piqued my interest. Did Persephone tell you to be in Diagon Alley the day you met Emma?"

"No, absolutely not. I was, admittedly, very late in picking up the books I needed to continue my Mastery. I normally don't wait last minute, but it felt like every time I went to make the trip out, it wasn't possible – something always happened. A few mates of mine got a flat in London a few weeks prior and wanted me to move in with them and kept trying to get me out to look. So I thought I might as well make the trip out when I did and stop in Diagon Alley. Wound up moving in with them a few days later, but that's beside the point. It almost felt like we were meant to be in the same place at the same time."

Remus nodded slowly, wondering just how much possible truth there could possibly be. He wanted to believe that it was just left to chance, but he was worried. There were suddenly more questions that Remus needed answers to, and he wasn't sure what to do about it just yet.

"But I believe you wanted to know why I want to date your daughter?" Greyson said, pulling Remus back out of his thoughts. Remus was surprised to see an almost shy smile on Greyson's face and gestured for him to continue. Greyson huffed out a laugh, taking a look around the pub before speaking again. "It's hard for me to find something that I don't adore about her. For two weeks, I got to witness her strength in person. Everything that was thrown her way she took and pretended that it didn't bother her, and she only truly broke one time; she broke when she was worried about her family. I don't know how she does it. Her intelligence is incredible. She's funny, and I can't figure out if it's her laugh or her smile or both that can light up a room. I have honestly never met someone like her. And she's so giving and loving and caring and –"

"It's hard to imagine that someone like her exists in such a small body because you don't know where she keeps everything," Remus finished.

Greyson nodded. "I feel like I need to protect her, even though it's obvious that she doesn't need my help. At all. But I want to be there for her if she needs it," Greyson said, taking a long drink and shaking his head. "Quite honestly, I've been sorely tempted to go to the other side of the village just to make sure she's all right. A part of me doesn't even care if my father knows if I exist, all I care about is that she's safe."

Remus had to admit he found Greyson's answers impressive, especially with how honest he had been so far. There were no signs that Greyson was telling him exactly what he wanted to hear and wore an almost wistful smile on his face talking about his daughter. He didn't wear the love-sick expression he thought Greyson would have but looked incredibly fond, his tone full of adoration as he spoke. Greyson's feelings seemed to run a little deeper than just a quick fling, and perhaps he was a little more genuine than Remus thought. Remus wasn't expecting it in the least, but it was refreshing.

"You and me both," Remus agreed with a sigh. "You've truly never seen your father before?"

"I've seen him once in person," Greyson said quietly. "Last year, actually. He was leaving Scrivenshaft's just as I was leaving Honeydukes. I didn't realize who he was at first, but I recognized him from photos. I had to immediately go back inside. I wasn't sure what to do because I never expected him to be there."

Remus looked at Greyson curiously. "Was it around Christmas last year?"

"Er, yes."

"He was buying a quill for Emma – the iridescent one she uses all the time," Remus said in explanation, crossing his arms. He stared at his bottle of Butterbeer with a frown. "But this makes things a bit more complicated."

"How so?"

"Do you want the honest answer?"

"I'd prefer it."

"That means he absolutely knows about you, then," Remus sighed, looking over at Greyson. Greyson took a deep breath and nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line. "As Emma's started to educate you on…our kind…I'll be blunt – he would recognize your scent right away. It's faint, but it's similar enough to his that he would pick it up quickly. It's so similar that I'm wondering if you've done a good job of hiding yourself or if your secret has just been that well hidden. Or not at all, but you've made allies that you don't even know about."

"I wondered about that," Greyson said quietly. "Last year, in Hogsmeade…he practically froze the very moment I walked out of Honeydukes, so I'm sure he knows. But he's never…he's never been around that I know of. Part of me wanted to confront him, but…"

"You made the smart move," Remus said, rubbing his jaw. "From your letters, it sounds as though you don't want anything to do with him?"

"How could I when I know what he did to my mother?" Greyson asked, his brows knitting together. "But there's always that part of me that wonders why he did what he did."

"I think we all have the same question for different reasons," Remus said. "And you understand what exactly it is Emma is doing today?"

"Unfortunately," Greyson said with a sad smile. "I don't like the idea of it at all, but…like I said earlier, it would take her doing far more to keep me away."

"Well, there's a lot more to it than you think, and I'm sure Emma will explain it more," Remus replied. He took a look at his watch and frowned at the time, not sure that he was reading it correctly. He sat up straight with his sudden panic. "And Emma is very late. She should have been here nearly forty-five minutes ago, and I'm meant to be meeting someone in fifteen."

"She was supposed to be back already?" Greyson asked, sitting up straighter.

"Shit. Yes," Remus said, standing up quickly. "I don't know why she's not here yet, but I'm trying to ignore the possibility of what could have happened. If you don't think that you can handle whatever her decision may be, then I suggest leaving right now. Otherwise, I recommend finding a table and waiting."

"I could go with you," Greyson said quickly.

"It's best you don't," Remus said grimly. "I don't…I'll be back with her," he said with finality. "I'm still not sure what to think, but I'll leave this first decision up to you. If you're still here, then Emma holds the final decision on what she wants to do. If you're not here when we get back, then I'll just tell her you never showed up and leave it at that, but don't you ever dare contact her again."

Greyson looked as though he wanted to say something but nodded instead. Remus gave Greyson one final look before quickly throwing several coins down to pay for their Butterbeers and rushing out. He had a feeling Greyson would still be there when he returned, but he wasn't sure.

It was very unlike Emma to not be on time, especially when she had been excited over the idea of seeing Greyson. She was nervous, he knew that, but Remus feared the worst. Emma not being where she was meant to be was always anxiety-inducing by itself, but the addition of Fenrir put Remus severely on edge. He didn't feel like there was anything off, but that meant nothing, and Remus nearly broke out into a sprint towards the Hog's Head.

Every terrible thought ran through his head as he made his way towards the other pub. He was running on pure adrenaline, his body running hot and cold at the same time. Remus _knew_ he should have been close by, and he was cursing himself repeatedly. He wouldn't be okay until he knew that Emma was all right.

It felt like ages before he turned the corner of the street the Hog's Head was down, and he finally ran. His heart just about stopped when he spotted Emma's boots sticking out from behind a stack of boxes against a building further down the street. Nothing made him move faster than that.

Remus skidded to a halt and thought he might weep from sheer relief. He doubled over, panting hard with his hands on his knees. He took a close look at Emma, who was staring at him with very round eyes. There were dried tear tracks on her face, and Remus suddenly felt incredibly guilty. How long had she sat on the ground by herself?

"Emma, what are you doing?" he asked, dropping down on his knees next to her. He took another good look at her, brows raising in surprise. She was no longer wearing Fenrir's ring, and she wasn't wearing the necklace Fenrir had given her, but she wasn't wearing her other necklaces either. She didn't appear hurt, but she was still tense.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, tears springing up in her eyes. She lifted her hand up to show him the broken chains of her necklaces. "I…he got angry with me just before he left. I told him I didn't want to wear his ring or the necklace anymore after everything was done. He told me I wasn't worthy of wearing the ones from you and Papa…I feel like he's right."

"Oh, sweetheart," Remus murmured, pulling Emma into his arms as a dry sob overtook her. "You know that's not true. That would never be true."

"But I…he didn't give me a choice," Emma cried, clutching hard to him. "H-he would have k-killed me if I said no. And t-then I thought he was going to a-anyway."

Remus had expected that Fenrir would make it difficult for Emma to give him any other answer, but he didn't expect the threat of death. Fenrir's interests in Emma were very singular, but for him to go so far to threaten to kill her – again – led Remus to wonder why. As much as he wanted to know exactly what happened, it could wait. He was just grateful that she was alive and relatively unharmed. Broken necklaces meant nothing when they could easily be fixed or replaced.

"I'm so sorry," she said brokenly. "I didn't mean to make you scared. I just…I couldn't."

"Don't apologize," Remus said gently, holding Emma a little tighter. "We'll figure things out. You didn't agree to anything else, did you? Did he hurt you?"

"No," Emma sniffled. "No, I'm fine. Fenrir just acted like Fenrir. He said we would discuss things next time he visits because he didn't have time to get that far today."

"Okay, then everything is fine," Remus sighed. "This is fine."

"It doesn't feel like it," Emma muttered.

Remus stayed precisely where he was for a few minutes, just letting Emma soak in all the comfort she needed. He would've stayed longer, but Emma started to shiver, and he realized just how cold she must be. Charmed coat or not, there was a definite chill in the air, and Emma was very much in a dress.

"Come on, let's get you to the Three Broomsticks and get you warm," Remus said, pulling himself away and helping Emma off the ground. He brushed her off and leaned down to kiss her forehead, and she frowned at him as if remembering something. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked.

"Fenrir tried to kiss me," Emma said, her face twisting in disgust. "And then he got mad at me again when I didn't let him, but then he found it funny."

Remus was entirely disturbed by the thought, and it made him sick. He shouldn't have been surprised, but he was. A burning hot rage started to simmer underneath his skin, but he tamped it down as quickly as it came. Now was not the time to get angry when Fenrir had long since left the village.

"Oh, you poor thing," Remus said when he found his voice again. "All right, come on. It won't do you any good standing out here and catching a cold."

Emma nodded, allowing herself to be pulled into Remus's side. Just like when she was younger, she held tightly to the back of his coat, leaning heavily against him for support. She seemed more than content to just walk in silence next to him, closing her eyes and letting him take the lead. Remus only cared that she was safe and wasn't harmed. Things could have gone far worse than they did from the very little he knew. He knew that she would need a little extra love, but she was strong. He was just surprised that Emma didn't bring up Greyson.

She was quiet all the way until they made it to the Three Broomsticks, and panic suddenly took over. Emma's eyes shot open as he opened the door, and her anxious gaze found his when they stepped into the warmth of the building. Remus knew the look in her eyes too well - she had completely forgotten. He did a quick scan of the room to see if he could see if Greyson had stayed, and he was surprised to find that he had. Greyson had found a table tucked in the back of the room, choosing to take the seat facing away from them. It was close enough to the bar but far enough to offer a semblance of privacy in the crowded building.

"He showed up just as I said he would," Remus said gently, pointing out where Greyson was sitting, and Emma held on tighter to his coat.

"I look terrible," Emma said, looking down at herself. "I can't…but I want to."

"You look beautiful," Remus said. "Here." Remus motioned for Emma to take off her coat as he removed his. He held his jacket out for Emma to take, and she looked at him curiously.

"Thought you might be more comfortable with mine," he said in explanation. Emma nodded, pulling her arms through the sleeves after handing her coat to Remus. Though it was still big, it fit her much better. She thought about something for a moment and held out the necklaces still held in her other hand.

"Could you?" she asked, her voice quiet. "I don't think I can handle fixing them myself right now. I'm too –"

"No explanation is needed, fy nghariad," Remus said, taking the necklaces from Emma. He pulled out his wand and muttered a quiet " _Reparo_ " to fix the chains. He gestured for Emma to turn around, and he clasped each necklace back around her neck. She let out a soft breath of relief, touching each pendant in turn as the chains were fastened.

"Do you…what do you think of him?" Emma asked quietly, fidgeting with the necklaces.

"I think that what I feel doesn't matter right now," Remus responded carefully. "He said a few things that I was happy to hear, but it will come down to how he treats you." He looked up at the bar to find who he was looking for and gave a small wave to Elara, who was looking at him in fascination. "If you don't want to see him, then I'll tell him to leave before I go sit with Elara. You can walk out, and he'll never know. You can do whatever it is you want for the rest of the day instead."

"Elle?" Emma questioned, glancing up at him. She took a look around and let out a breath when she spotted Elara at the bar.

"Got special permission for the day. Your grandfather's position was reinstated at the Ministry a few days ago, so we're taking advantage where we can," Remus said gently, watching as recognition crossed Emma's face. "Thought I might need some reinforcements, just in case. Now, go on, you can talk to her later. You've been waiting for today."

Emma hesitated, and it was so unlike her that it gave Remus pause. He was beginning to wonder if Emma was about to change her mind. She stood rooted to the spot looking incredibly torn, and then she turned back to look at him. In the blink of an eye, she threw her arms back around him tightly.

"Thank you," she said, her voice barely higher than the noise surrounding them. Emma leaned back to look at him, still looking worried. "Are you sure I look all right?"

"Sweetheart, I swear – you look absolutely beautiful," Remus said lightly.

Emma still looked uncertain, but she nodded. She took a deep breath and turned back around to look at where Greyson was. Emma took a few tentative steps forward, cast Remus one final nervous look, and continued on her way.

Remus sighed, watching her closely as he made his way to the bar for the second time that day. He swore to himself that he wouldn't watch them together and would allow them a moment of privacy, but he couldn't look away. It had been a very long time since Remus had seen Emma acting so shy that he forgot what her genuine shyness looked like. Emma very nervously tapped Greyson's shoulder, a blush creeping across her cheeks when he looked at her. Remus worried when it looked like she had frozen up, but the sweetest smile he had ever seen slowly crossed her face. Her face grew even redder when she looked in his direction as Greyson stood to greet her.

Her embarrassment evaporated quickly as Greyson pulled her attention once more as he held his arms open for her. It took a moment for her to decide what to do, but she leaned into his embrace, a shy smile still on her face as she hugged him. Remus could see her visibly relax, eyes closing as Greyson held her. As Greyson leaned back to hold her face between his hands, Remus understood what she liked about him.

Greyson treated her how she should be treated – with a tenderness that she more than deserved. The way he brushed his thumbs against her cheeks was a decidedly safe and comfortable gesture for her, and he held her delicately. Emma wouldn't dare give just anyone the smile that she gave Greyson. Just for that alone, Remus could _possibly_ approve.

"She looks comfortable," Elara said. "What do you think of him?"

"I'm not sure yet," Remus admitted, finally sitting down. "I think that this all adds another layer of issues I wasn't anticipating. Emma can be quick to warm up to people, but not like that."

"Wouldn't it be an absolute slap in the face to Fenrir if they truly wound up together?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, did she join Fenrir today?"

"It's not as though he gave her much of a choice, but I think we all knew that was already a possibility."

"Then that means that a good thing has happened for our kind for the first time in a very long time," Elara said earnestly. She took in Remus's confused expression and pat his arm. "Send them a round of Butterbeer, and let's leave them alone. I'm sure they've got a lot to talk about, as do we. Tell me more about him."

Emma forgot just how much she missed Greyson until she was in his arms. She _knew_ that she missed him, but it was so much different being there in person with him. She missed the way he smelled, missed how he enveloped her in his embrace, and she missed his touch. If they weren't surrounded by so many people, and especially her father, she might have even kissed him.

"I missed you," Greyson said softly.

"I missed you, too," Emma replied back, very slowly pulling away. She took a look around the room to make sure that no one was paying attention to them. A hug between friends would be expected, but anything more, anything lingering…Greyson seemed to pick up on her thoughts and took a step back, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I, uhm, I brought you flowers," Greyson said, reaching down to the table and lifting the bouquet of brightly colored flowers. "They're also –"

"Potions ingredients?" Emma finished in question as she took the bouquet with a knowing smile. "How romantic. I love a man who can take a romantic gesture and make it practical," she teased. She had forgotten just how easy it was to be around Greyson, and her face flushed with embarrassment at what she said. Did Greyson pick up the underlying meaning of her words? It wasn't as though she could take them back – she knew that a part of her started to love him. But daring to admit that to him in any degree was dangerous; _she_ was dangerous, and her nerves were beginning to come back.

"Well, there's nothing like having a good set of potion ingredients," Greyson said after a long pause. "It's even better when they can serve as decoration before you can dry them.

"I didn't think you would actually come," Emma admitted, running her fingers over the petals of a stalk of lavender.

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked, genuinely looking confused by Emma saying such a thing.

Emma had no idea how to answer that question cohesively. Her thoughts were moving too fast, and though she was excited to see him, she was absolutely terrified. It suddenly seemed stupid to her that Greyson was even there, knowing full well what she had to do that day. Panic flared up with such an intensity that it nearly made her knees buckle. Emma met Greyson's gaze, taking in the way he was searching her eyes, trying to understand the sudden change, and her heart started to break. She couldn't bring Greyson down with her.

"Greyson, I'm sorry," Emma said, putting the bouquet down on the table. "This is stupid, and I'm just wasting your time. You don't need to be caught up in this. I'll go so we can just pretend that nothing ever happened."

Greyson's hand wrapped around her wrist just as she turned around, not giving her the opportunity to leave. Emma turned back to look at him, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. She forgot how his touch always felt like fire against her bare skin, the heat pleasant and sending a fluttering feeling to her stomach.

"Why would I want to pretend that nothing ever happened?" Greyson asked.

"Because of what I did, Greyson," Emma replied. "You don't need to be caught up in it. I think it would be better off if we just…if all of this just stopped."

"And did you want to?"

"What?"

"Did you want to do what you did? Or were you forced into it?" Greyson asked, looking at her pointedly. Emma opened her mouth and closed it quickly, and Greyson sighed. "Emma, I wouldn't be here if I didn't think that that you were worth it. I wouldn't have bothered coming to meet your father if I didn't. I know you're scared, and I would be a liar if I said I wasn't scared too. Will you at least sit down with me and talk? If you truly feel that you need to leave, then I'll let you go, but I'd really rather not if I don't have to."

Emma looked just past Greyson towards her father. He wasn't directly facing them, but she could see that he was poised to get up and intervene if he needed. She sighed when she noticed Greyson's hopeful expression – she owed him an explanation at the very least.

"All right," Emma agreed, making her way to the seat opposite of where he sat when he let go of her wrist. Though Greyson still looked hopeful, he also looked worried, and Emma frowned at the expression on his face. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Emma, yes, I'm sure," Greyson said with a huffed-out laugh. He opened his mouth to ask her something, but two Butterbeer bottles were placed down on the table. "Well, that answered the question I had next. I'm assuming your father had these sent over."

Emma looked over at Remus, who was still trying to pretend he wasn't paying attention to what was going on. She shook her head in amusement and picked up a bottle. "I think you would be right," Emma said quietly, taking a drink. She didn't want another Butterbeer, but it was better than nothing. If she was correct, her father would definitely pay attention to their conversation, and she sighed. "I suppose I should start at the beginning…"

It became evident to Emma that Remus _and_ Elara were listening to what she had to say when Elara straightened up. They weren't talking to each other, each nursing their drinks slowly as they listened. Emma didn't even want to know how complicated it would be for them to listen in with so much noise in the pub. Elara's head turned slightly in their direction, intrigued by what she was saying. She hesitated for a moment as she went over everything that had happened with Fenrir, glancing back over at Remus and Elara. When Emma didn't continue her story, Remus gave the slightest of nods in confirmation that she should keep talking.

"He, uhm…he sees me as a threat, and for the first time in my life, I believe I might genuinely be," Emma said, flinching slightly as both Elara and Remus turned to look at her. Remus looked concerned, and Elara looked fascinated. Greyson just looked horrified, and she hadn't even gotten to the worst of it yet.

"You know how we talked about how your father enjoys divination?" Emma asked Greyson.

"Yes," he said slowly.

"Well, I didn't realize just how much. Your father and I talked about it, of course, but it goes much deeper than I thought. When I was eleven, just before the Hogwarts letters went out, actually, I was with your father, and I managed to scrape my knee. He, er, took some of my blood and apparently used it to do a reading," Emma said, glancing up at Remus, who wasn't bothering to hide he was listening. "I don't have the specifics, but whatever that particular reading involved told him that I could be a problem for him…if he didn't do something about it first. In some ways, he made it sound like certain parts of my life were always meant to come true – namely me becoming a werewolf at some point…but also gaining power."

Remus and Elara immediately looked at each other, this time both with alarm.

"He wants to kill me, but he wants power, so he won't. Or at least he's trying to avoid it right now if he can. I'm not stupid enough to believe that he won't kill me if he really feels the need to," Emma continued. She worried her lip between her teeth, unsure of whether to bring up her thoughts. Emma sighed when she noticed that everyone seemed to want her to continue. "But he had me do a tea leaf reading before he told me that information. And that was partially why I said yes to joining him, but I don't know how to explain this without sounding mental because I'm not fond of divination. He's said that werewolves are supposedly more aligned to the art, especially with earth-related scrying, but I don't know how true that is. I can't wrap my mind around it."

"Then just try and explain it," Greyson said. "I doubt it'll sound any more mental than everything else."

"But that's the thing," Emma replied. "It will sound mental…Just – listen - I've had similar readings in my cup before that I just laughed at, but it changed today. And I worry about telling you because I know it's only going to make you want to stay…"

"I wasn't planning on going anywhere unless you were insistent on me leaving," Greyson said with a chuckle. "Whatever you tell me isn't going to change my mind when my mind was already made up."

Emma couldn't help but snort as she laughed. Clearly, the Fenmore men were incredibly persistent.

"Well, what is it, then? What would make me insist on staying?" Greyson asked lightly, trying to add a touch of teasing in his tone.

"All right," Emma said with a sigh. "My readings generally have some symbol of power – a crown, a laurel, anything that would imply me being more than what I think I am. It's everything that everyone else tells me, but I didn't believe it until now. I don't like the idea of divination, but I think I have to change my thinking now that I know blood magic was involved. Blood magic is potent as it is, and when done by a werewolf, well…it's hard to argue against a magical creature. I still have my doubts, but if we're leaving my fate up to fortune-telling, I'm meant to have some sort of rise to power. That part I sort of knew, but like I said, it changed. For the first time ever, I had the sign for Gemini in my cup. That was an odd inclusion in itself, but…"

"But what?"

"There was also a ring…"

Greyson was silent for a long moment as he let that sink in. "There were letters then?" he asked, swallowing hard.

"Just like in that stupid book you asked me about in Flourish and Blotts," Emma said quietly.

"And it was…"

"A letter G and a letter F in that exact order," Emma said quietly. She pulled her lip between her teeth and watched Greyson anxiously, worried at how he might react. "And with Gemini…"

The air that settled between them was heavy as she let her words sink in. Emma knew that it was a lot to take in and had spent nearly the entirety of her time by herself thinking about it. It was hard to argue the truth when blood magic was involved, but who was right? Was she the one who had it correct and Fenrir was wrong? Or was Fenrir reading everything correctly, and she was missing something? She was still processing things herself, and she had pulled in several others at the same time.

The first person to piece together what Emma had said was Elara, and she looked between Emma and Greyson in awe. A slow smile crossed her face, and she turned to Remus with an almost smug smile. He looked at Elara, trying to put it together, and then turned his attention back to Emma with wide eyes when he understood.

It took Greyson several moments longer to put things together, and he leaned back in his chair, staring hard at Emma. Emma knew that Greyson had taken Divination as a subject himself, wanting a third class to take with Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. She knew that he was running through every single possibility of what she had said.

"You think he's been reading everything wrong?" Greyson asked. "Everything my father's been seeing…it's not supposed to be him."

"I don't believe that it's meant to be him," Emma said nervously.

"You think it's meant to be me?" Greyson asked, running his hands through his hair when Emma nodded. "Gemini only showed up in your cup after meeting me?" Emma nodded again, and Greyson took in a deep breath.

"I don't understand it. I-I don't understand, a-and it's dangerous, and there's literally no reason why you need to be caught up in this," Emma said quickly, words nearly blending together with how quickly she was speaking. "It's stupid fortune-telling, and there are no guarantees any of it is even right. Y-you can get up and leave right now, and it would be really hard to get over, but I would respect your decision. I know it's mental –"

"You're right. It is mental," Greyson said sharply, cutting Emma off before she could continue her rambling. Emma's lips parted with her surprise, and she cocked her head to the side as she looked at Greyson. "What's mental…is that you've just sat and told me all of this and think I would ever consider leaving. You just told me that – through a ritual done with blood magic, might I add – that there is a strong possibility that you are meant to be my _wife,_ and you think I would walk away? You don't just walk away from that, Emma."

Emma was at a loss for words, no longer able to direct her attention to Remus or Elara because she was confused. Greyson reached out to take her hands in his.

"Emma, I know this is quite a novel idea, but I am an adult, and I can make my own choices," Greyson teased lightly. "I'm aware that my father is dangerous. I have an idea of what I would be getting myself into, and I won't lie and say that doesn't scare me, but…Emma, you would really give up on the idea of us before we even tried?" Greyson asked. "And don't you dare look over at your father because I know you're about to," Greyson added with a pointed look. Emma's face grew hot, and she gave Greyson a sheepish grin as she was about to do precisely that.

"I know you value his opinion more than anything, but I want to ask you something. I need you to look me in the eyes and answer this question for me – honestly. I don't want the answer I know you would give me automatically because you're scared," Greyson said, waiting for Emma to look at him fully. "If things were different, and there was nothing to worry about, if I asked you to be my girlfriend again, what would your answer be?"

Emma stared at Greyson, desperately wanting to look away and over at Remus and Elara for some sort of guidance. Somehow Greyson's gaze felt even more intense than Fenrir's but less terrifying, and Emma frowned slightly. She knew what her answer would be because she knew what her answer was when Greyson asked her the first time.

"It would be yes," Emma said quietly. "The answer was always yes…"

"And what did we promise to each other?"

"That we would figure things out," Emma replied with a heavy sigh. "But Greyson –"

"Emma, listen to me," Greyson said earnestly, squeezing Emma's hands to silence her once more. "I am going to ask you one more time, and I want your honest answer. If you want me to leave, I shall leave, but I want you to think about what _you_ want. So, Emma, what do you say that we start our beginning officially and you be my girlfriend?" A very knowing smile crossed Greyson's face, and Emma raised an eyebrow.

"You can look over at your father now," he said, shaking his head with a fond smile. "I know that this won't work if we don't have help...and you technically already gave me the answer I was hoping for."

Emma barked out a laugh of complete disbelief, and she couldn't stop her smile. Despite not knowing Fenrir, Greyson could be terribly like his father. The difference was Greyson used his cunning for good and not evil. At least this was a decision that she wanted to genuinely say yes to, but she was scared. Shaking her head, she looked past Greyson to find Remus and Elara once more.

Remus still looked uncertain, and he looked over at Elara as she said something to him. He was listening very carefully to what Elara said, his expression unreadable. Elara gave a slight shrug when she finished talking and looked back at Emma with a smile. Remus looked to be lost in thought for a long moment, mulling over what Elara must have said. When Remus's gaze lifted to meet Emma's stare, he raised an eyebrow at her in question. He wanted to know if it was what she wanted. Emma stared back, hoping that he understood what she was trying to convey, and her smile grew when he gave a small nod. He did always understand her best.

"So?" Greyson asked with a lopsided smile on his face. "Will that be a yes?"

"As if I had any other answer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Longer to update than usual and I apologize. Life more or less slapped me in the face out of nowhere, so updates might be a little slower. There’s a lot going on, a lot of soul searching and the whatnot, but this story is NOT abandoned. I’m not about to write a novel on what’s going on, but you can always find me on Discord to find out. (Link in bio!)
> 
> That being said - YAY UPDATE. Also, this chapter is a lot. It’s not my favorite, but it serves it’s purpose. Also, today, February 16th, is Baby Grey’s birthday so it feels fitting?
> 
> I don’t know! All the same~
> 
> To all of my late night readers, please go to bed! I love you and good night! :D For all of my other times of day readers - I love you too. :)
> 
> **come find me on:**   
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> 
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> 


	46. A Massive Favor

"I am the only person in the world with a medical support boyfriend," Emma huffed, pacing the length of the hospital wing. "And I would have been livid if there were people in here."

Greyson watched as Emma walked back and forth, unable to keep herself still for longer than a few minutes. "I feel like it should be me pacing and not you," he said guiltily. "I know I said it last month, but it's not fair."

"It's my reality," Emma said, trying to stretch and immediately regretting it as a muscle spasmed at the same time. "Maybe someday it'll be easier…When I'm a full werewolf, perhaps."

Greyson sighed, tilting his head as he watched Emma continue to walk back and forth from the chair he was sitting in. He watched for a few minutes longer before getting up to put himself in Emma's path.

"Come here," Greyson said gently, holding his arms open for Emma to walk into. "You need to relax."

"I can't relax," Emma said, settling herself In Greyson's arms with a long, overdramatic sigh. "I've got you for one night and one night only. Plus, we're _here_ and not in our own room. This is terrible! Relaxing is impossible."

"You have me for the rest of our lives," Greyson chuckled. Emma groaned, not wanting to listen to Greyson's optimism when she wanted to dig through her skin to scratch at her burning bones. "And there are only nine weeks until the holidays."

"And two more full moons."

"And two more Hogsmeade trips – at minimum."

"Hogsmeade trips that are probably going to be terribly complicated if they can happen at all."

"And you forget that your father plans to pull you out of the castle one of these weekends to spend time with you, and he graciously invited me to dinner."

"It's not just you," Emma pointed out. "It's your entire family he invited. I'm bloody nervous."

"He just wants to get to know everyone. I don't blame him for worrying. And I promise you that you don't need to worry – they are going to love you."

"Greyson?"

"Yes?"

"Please shut up."

Greyson's laugh was soft as he held Emma close. She was exhausted, and she burrowed her face in his chest just to try and still the movement. He helped to soothe the worst of her pain, but she forgot how much Fenrir's ring actually helped. Still, she had dealt with worse.

It felt like she had gone through the strangest few days she had in a while, and Emma couldn't stop thinking about it. The weekend's Hogsmeade trip wound up being one of the best days she had since before Greyson left. Or at least it was after sitting through what was nearly a very awkward conversation. It felt silly to be chaperoned by her father and Elara, but luckily, they kept their distance to let her spend time with Greyson…mostly alone.

Rather than bothering to pretend they weren't listening, Remus and Elara joined them at their table. Emma was more than happy to take the seat next to Greyson, but she realized just how strange it suddenly was to be sitting across from her father. Elara looked more than delighted, but Remus's expression was nearly unreadable. Greyson just seemed flustered to suddenly have another werewolf sitting across from him but quickly pulled up his charm to introduce himself to Elara.

"They look adorable together, don't they, Remus?" Elara asked Remus, her smile beaming and making Emma blush fiercely. Remus rolled his eyes and rubbed his hand over his forehead, shaking his head. Elara only shrugged, giving Emma and Greyson a very approving smile.

"Ignore him," Elara said to Greyson, waving Remus off. "Grumpy, overprotective father, you know. I already like you. He does too; he'll just take longer to admit it."

Remus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to gather his thoughts. Emma was just relieved it wasn't her, not entirely, who pulled that reaction from her father. She cast Greyson a sidelong glance and bit her lip to keep herself from smiling too much.

"You're both aware of how difficult this is going to be, yes?" he asked, looking between the two of them. "This isn't going to be a typical relationship for either of you in the least, especially not after the information Emma has revealed. I still have my concerns, and I'm still not entirely sold on the idea of you two as a couple, but Greyson, as I told you, it's Emma's decision, not mine. I am not going to stand in the way of what makes her happy, but that means we all need to have a very important discussion."

Remus's gaze turned immediately to Emma, and her stomach dropped in absolute horror when she noticed the look in his eyes. He looked somewhat disappointed, a little embarrassed, and just a touch amused. It didn't take long for her to realize where the conversation was about to go, and she couldn't believe Remus would dare have it in public. Her father had absolutely no shame.

"Elle!" Emma practically shrieked, feeling completely betrayed by what was about to happen. "You promised you wouldn't tell him!"

"Don't blame me!" Elara said quickly. "Your father figured it out! There was no point in me trying to lie about it when he asked me. You know he's quick to figure these things out!"

"May I ask what's happening?" Greyson asked, taking in Emma's incredibly red face, Elara's apologetic expression, and Remus's blank face.

"No! Daddy, don't you _dare_ ," Emma said sharply, pointing a finger at Remus and glaring at him.

"Emma?" Greyson asked, looking slightly nervous.

"It's really not that bad," Elara said with a shrug, not bothering to elaborate. She grabbed her glass to take a drink of her beer, looking more and more amused.

"What's not that bad?"

"Greyson, I'm so sorry," Emma said, covering her face with her hands at Remus's far too amused look on his face. Remus clasped his hands in front of him on the table and leaned towards Greyson.

"I'm not going to pretend that I don't know what you two were up to while you were meant to be working on your Mastery requirements, Greyson," Remus said lightly and far too brightly for Emma's liking. His tone was soft, but her father was obviously not thrilled. "So, I thought, since you've apparently decided my daughter will be your wife, we should probably make a few things clear."

"Oh," Greyson said slowly. Emma peered through her fingers at Greyson and gave him an apologetic look.

"I'm so sorry," Emma repeated. "I thought that when George didn't have to go through this, it would be fine."

"Ah, but I didn't think that I had to worry about George," Remus said to Emma. "And as you two have already started to become familiar with each other intimately, I think it would be foolish to put the conversation off. You're both very young, and I know just how easy it is to get caught up in the heat of the moment."

"Someone please just kill me now," Emma muttered, slipping down in her chair to try and hide.

"Bit too soon to make those jokes, kid," Elara said, clearing her throat to hide her laugh.

"I, er, think your father might have a good point," Greyson said to Emma's annoyance. Emma couldn't believe that she would have to shoot Greyson a look to show just how betrayed she felt by him as well. "I have a feeling that sitting through a very awkward conversation might be the easy part of our entire relationship. I'd rather address his concerns now rather than later."

"Greyson Randolph Fenmore, you bloody traitor," Emma said. "You have not had the unfortunate experience of sitting through this conversation with my father several times."

"How bad can it be?"

Remus didn't bother hiding his smirk, and Greyson paled considerably. Emma just went back to hiding her very red face. She couldn't believe what was happening.

"I'm not going to torture you two, as enjoyable as it would be for me," Remus said after a long pause, much to Emma's surprise. She peered at Remus through her fingers, worried he might suddenly change his mind. "I obviously cannot change what has already happened, but I'm not going to pretend that I'm unaware and pretend that it doesn't bother me. However, I would also be a hypocrite if I were to say that I wasn't doing much worse at Emma's age. I think you both are old enough to understand the risks involved in the activities you've engaged in. That being said, my comment earlier still stands, Greyson. If I ever hear that you've taken advantage of my daughter, you will have far worse things than _your_ father to worry about. I do not want to hear from Emma that I'll be a grandparent anytime in the near future. Do I make myself plain?"

"Yes sir, and as I said earlier, I would never consider doing such a thing. If she's not comfortable, then she's not comfortable, end of story," Greyson said earnestly. A blush crossed his face, and he rubbed the back of his neck. "And, er, it's absolutely far too early to even consider the idea of children, and we've most definitely had that discussion already. I swear to you that I would never do anything to hurt her. I'm not my father, and I have no desire to do anything that would ever put her in any danger."

"Well, my daughter is very much both of her fathers," Remus said pointedly. "Which means that she is a little troublemaker in everything she does. She is going to push you to your limits. If you are the man you insist you are, you will do everything in your power to keep her safe in every way you can. I don't believe I need to elaborate on what I mean by that."

"No, sir," Greyson said. "I hope that I can prove to you that my feelings are genuine."

Remus nodded slowly, giving Greyson a once over before turning his attention back to Emma, who had finally stopped hiding. She was still worried, but he wasn't overbearing like she thought he would be. He didn't seem resigned like she thought he would be, but he seemed to have come to some semblance of acceptance. Emma knew that everything he was doing was entirely for her, and despite being horribly embarrassed, she felt a flood of appreciation for her father.

"And you, Emma Hope, already know my expectations," Remus said, fixing Emma with a hard stare. His tone was much softer with her than with Greyson. "I like to believe that I've taught you well, do not give me any reason to believe otherwise. Please – don't keep things from me, especially not now. You're growing up, but you're still young, and I want you to remember that _you_ come first. Not me or Papa or Elle or Greyson or any of your friends – but _you_. My job is to help you when you need it and when you ask for my guidance. I don't want you to ever feel afraid to come to me for anything, and I certainly don't want you to go back to hiding things from me. I don't care how uncomfortable you feel something might be or how embarrassing it is; if you need someone to talk to, you can _always_ come to me. You know that I will love you no matter what. You know that, yes?"

Emma managed a weak nod in response.

"Good," Remus said softly. "I don't want you to ever forget that. You are the most important thing to me, Emma, and if anything were to happen to you…" Remus trailed off and took a deep, steadying breath. "You are my entire world, Emma. We clearly have a lot to figure out, but we've done it time and time again – this is nothing new. That being said, this is going to have to be a joint effort if there's going to be any hope in making this work."

For the most part, the guidelines and Remus's requests were simple. Almost everything Remus had said, Emma and Greyson had already managed to put together on their own.

He expected them to take the time to truly get to know each other, which they had decided long before that day in letters. Emma and Greyson knew they had moved fast, but time didn't feel on their side. They had mentioned several times in their letters that they wanted to take the time to learn more about each other. Any dates in the village would be chaperoned just to make sure they didn't run into any surprises, which Emma already figured as well. Both Emma and Greyson were fully aware of having to pretend they were just friends for the time being before Remus mentioned it. They were already well-versed in the art of sneaky moments of holding hands and secret kisses with no one around.

But what Emma wasn't expecting was Remus's genuine attempts to make things work for them. It would involve some special permissions, but Remus was willing to speak to Dumbledore to make it work. Elara was the one who suggested that Greyson be with her for full moon nights and potentially the weekend if it didn't fall in the middle of the week. Remus brought up pulling Emma out of the castle during her longer mid-term breaks. As a bonus, he would try to make it a point to pull Emma away for at least one weekend so they could all have dinner together. It was all going to be a process, but Remus promised that he would try to help make things work. He wanted Emma to have a relatively normal dating experience while they worked out more of the details. None of it was ideal, but they were all worried about what would happen if they weren't careful.

With them all unsure of Fenrir's position was on Greyson, they weren't leaving things up to chance. Emma could tell that her father wasn't saying something underneath everything he was telling them, but she didn't ask. She knew he would tell her at some point, but it made her a little worried.

Still, Emma felt like it had wound up being a fun day. She always got a thrill from her sneaky kisses with Greyson, stealing them wherever they could. The softest brushes of his fingers against hers never failed to make her smile, and she loved when he would wrap his pinky around hers for just a moment. In Honeydukes, her face would heat up, and butterflies fluttered in her stomach each time he had to press himself close to her in the crowded building. He absolutely knew what he was doing when his hand would wrap around her waist or press against the small of her back so that he could get around her. Greyson would glance over at her with a cheeky grin and a wink, and Emma couldn't stop herself from smiling back.

Remus and Elara joined them in Honeydukes, much to Emma's dismay, as Elara wanted to pick up some candy. They had mostly kept to standing outside the shops, Elara holding Emma's bouquet for her and acting as silent sentries. However, it wasn't terrible that they both went into the shop. Greyson had stepped away to talk to someone he knew for a moment, leaving Emma to turn the tables and listen in on her father's conversation.

"They're sweet with each other, and if it's true…I like the idea of knowing that she'll have a life-long friend in him. They play together, and it's nice to see that in Emma," Emma heard Elara tell her father. "Who do you think is going to say they love the other first?"

"Greyson, without a doubt," Remus replied after a moment. "Emma clearly loves him, but she won't say it until after he does. She wants to be sure that he loves her back, even though it's obvious he already does. Turns out we've got a little romantic on our hands."

Emma couldn't stop herself from smiling and practically skipped away to look through the shelves of brightly wrapped candies.

However, things took a bit of a strange turn in Honeydukes, and Emma was still trying to figure out how to feel about it. She didn't like that everything kept coming back to the same unanswered question.

At some point, Persephone had walked into the shop and had spotted Greyson while he talked to his friend. It took next to no time for Remus to grab Emma and pull her off to the side.

"What is it?" Emma asked, looking at her father curiously and then over at Elara, who watched Greyson with Persephone.

"I'm not sure just yet," Remus said quietly. "I need some time to figure things out, but I think we need to go back to assuming that she's not safe. She's been friends with him this entire time and started talking to him more last year."

"Really?" Emma asked with a frown. "And Greyson?"

"Seems genuinely unaware that there is a problem," Remus said. "But for now, continue as planned. Persephone can't know more than what she already does until we're absolutely certain of other things. You having a friendship with Greyson we can find excuses for, but implying there's anything more too soon is dangerous. Though Fenrir's advice was most likely directed towards something different entirely, I suggest following it. Be careful with her and what information you trust her with. There are too many people influencing her, and none of them we can trust."

They could be safe and hidden in the castle walls, and Emma once again regretted not letting Greyson be her tutor. If she let him stay, it would have been much easier to make things work, but Remus made sure to remind her of the ethics behind it. He also made sure to mention he was disappointed that they both could have jeopardized Greyson's program if they got caught. Still, he begrudgingly spoke to Dumbledore to try and make arrangements for the full moon. Even if it meant being stuck in the hospital wing for the night, Emma was grateful that Dumbledore agreed. It was easy to hide them that way – have Greyson Floo directly into the very illegally opened Hospital Wing Floo and then have him Floo back out later.

"Why don't you rest?" Greyson asked softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"I can't," Emma whispered sleepily. "It hurts too much."

"Your head?"

"My head, my muscles, _my bones_. I keep waiting for everything to just snap in half anyway, but it never does."

"Come on, at least lay down with me," Greyson said. "You've been pacing for what feels like hours. I can see how tired you are, and you need to rest."

Emma sighed, allowing Greyson to pull her back towards their beds. Even though he knew what he was getting into with her, Emma still felt embarrassed by letting him help her so much. It made her very aware of how her father must have felt with Sirius helping him growing up. But Greyson took it all in stride, letting her do what she could on her own.

Greyson settled in the bed next to her, leaning against the metal headboard, and pulled her close. Emma laid her head down on his chest, sighing at the smallest bits of relief she felt.

"Better?" Greyson asked.

"A little, yeah," Emma said quietly, letting her eyes slip closed. "Thank you." Soleil was calm, and other than the odd fire under her skin, Emma felt peaceful. Just as she was growing comfortable, she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. Emma groaned at the sound and cracked an eye open to look at a mildly disapproving Madam Pomfrey.

"Is this appropriate, Miss Lupin?" Pomfrey asked. "I wasn't under the impression that you two needed to be in the same bed."

"Poppy, _please_ ," Emma whined, throwing an arm around Greyson's middle and burying her face in his chest. "Dad should have told you that this was fine. It's the whole werewolf thing, Poppy. If he's in the other bed, it's pointless."

"He told me to keep an eye on you and to make sure nothing would be happening tonight," Pomfrey said, crossing her arms.

"Poppy, I assure you – I just want to sleep. I wouldn't dare think of defiling the hospital with such an egregious act," Emma muttered. She didn't dare mention just what exactly it was she was doing with Greyson the previous month in the exact same bed.

"Hmm," Pomfrey hummed, her lips pursing. "I'll be double-checking with your father tomorrow, Miss Lupin. If I find out that you've lied to me, then expect points taken from Hufflepuff. With that out of the way, I've been told to inform you both that the Headmaster has requested a meeting with you two in the morning. And Emma – your father requested that you take the day off from classes, which means Mr. Fenmore, you do not have to leave until tomorrow night."

"Professor Dumbledore asked to see us both?" Greyson questioned. "Do you know what for?"

"I'm not too sure, Mr. Fenmore, and if I did, I would not tell you," Pomfrey said with a huff as she looked at the two of them. "I'll be heading to bed. Miss Lupin, if you need anything, you know where to find me."

"I've got this, Poppy! Pain potions in the cabinet to the left, sleep to the right," Emma said, closing her eyes and snuggling closer to Greyson.

"Sleep potions you are _not_ allowed to touch," Pomfrey said pointedly.

"Daddy said I could take one if I needed it!" Emma pointed out. "I just need to have someone older than me let me have it, which means technically Greyson could give it to me. Daddy and I agreed that as I'm an adult, I can make my own decisions, but I still need a third party to deem it necessary."

Pomfrey just let out an exasperated sigh and bid them both good night, waving her wand to turn off the rest of the lights. She cast them one final look before drawing the curtains around the bed, shaking her head.

"Did you call her Poppy?" Greyson asked when he deemed that Pomfrey was far enough away.

"Sometimes I call her Aunt Poppy when I feel like being funny," Emma said with a sleepy smile. "I've spent a lot of time with her, perhaps more than my father since I've done a fair amount of shadowing. We're pretty close, I think."

"I still think it's impressive how much you've actually done while here," Greyson said, stroking Emma's hair and massaging her scalp. "Fifteen and already shadowing for Healing? On top of working with Professor Sprout every other weekend while you're working on your studies?"

"It's something to do, and it mostly keeps me out of trouble," Emma sighed. "That is until a certain someone came into my life, of course. Are you going to stay all day tomorrow?"

"Of course, even if it means we're stuck here all day," Greyson said. "I'm going to assume that was your father's way of giving us some more time together?"

"He's good like that," Emma said. "Besides, I genuinely don't think I can handle sitting in a classroom all day. I'm absolutely knackered. I haven't had a full moon this terrible in a few months."

"Are you able to sleep at all?"

"Not just yet," Emma sighed. "What time is it?"

"Nearly 11," Greyson said.

"Ugh," Emma groaned. "Still have another 6 hours or so until moon fall. I'm not sleeping until at least one."

"What should we talk about tonight, then?" Greyson asked.

"We can talk about how it's an absolutely ridiculous Slytherin trait that you all like the color green," Emma murmured.

"Well, you're a Hufflepuff who loves the color yellow," Greyson chuckled. "Interesting choice of topic."

"But that's not a Hufflepuff thing. That's a _me_ thing."

"It could be a Hufflepuff thing."

"You're terrible," Emma said, poking Greyson's side.

"We could have some fun with our conversation tonight," Greyson said after a while. "Ask some interesting questions."

"Like what?"

"Like, what's your biggest fear?"

Emma opened her eyes and lifted her head to look at Greyson. She wasn't entirely expecting the line of questioning Greyson decided on. Emma knew that it was part of getting to know each other better, but she was surprised to have such a thought-provoking question.

"Losing everyone I love and it being my fault," Emma admitted. "Now more than ever and knowing what will be expected of me. What about you?"

"Having the world find out who I am," Greyson said quietly. "But I'm also afraid of losing everything as well. You've become very important to me very fast."

"You've become important to me, too," Emma said with a small smile.

"Now it's your turn to ask me a question," Greyson said pointedly.

Emma sighed, thinking about what to ask for a moment. "Do you like your name?" Emma eventually asked.

"Yes and no," Greyson responded after a long pause. "Yes, because I love how you say it, no because I know who I share it with."

"I like your name," Emma said quietly.

"What about you? Do you like yours?"

"I do when I'm who I should be. I love being Emma Hope Lupin. Emma Black or Emelyn Nickels aren't really _me_. I know Emma Black is, but…I've always been a Lupin. And I don't like that everything has to be so complicated, and I don't like that I never know what's going on."

"Because you don't have to be at most of the court appointments with your father?"

"Yes," Emma whispered. She sat up straight and stretched, rubbing her hands over her face. "I don't like knowing that there's a potential that Jude could be winning. I know Fenrir said he was working on that, but…He made it sound like Jude is going to be persistent."

"I just don't understand how you got tangled in this mess."

"I don't know either," Emma said, pulling her knees up to her chest. "And there are still so many uncertainties to the situation that I don't even know where to begin." Emma turned her head to look at Greyson. "You know, I could always call you Grey," she said quietly. "Then it's a little more yours."

"Well, it would certainly be better than you calling me son," Greyson said, lips twitching up into a smile. He laughed when Emma smacked him in his chest, a disbelieving smile on her face. She still couldn't believe he could make jokes about being her boyfriend and her future stepson and find it funny. Greyson's humor could be just as dark as hers. "Really, though? You think it would be different enough?"

"Well, we don't know unless we try it, right? It's still you, but it's _our_ version of you – _my_ version," Emma said, a sleepy smile breaking on her face. " _My_ Grey."

"Grey," he said quietly, testing out the shortened version of his name. " _Your_ Grey." Emma nodded, smiling a little more when Greyson leaned forward to kiss her. "I think I like it."

"Good," Emma said. "Your turn to ask something."

Greyson seemed to take his time in thinking of a question to ask, his fingers tracing aimless patterns on her arm.

"I have a feeling I already know the answer to this question," Greyson said softly, meeting Emma's eyes, "but if you could bring one person back from the dead for a day, who would it be and why?"

"My mother," Emma said, surprised at how quickly tears sprung up in her eyes. She leaned into Greyson's touch when he brushed away a tear that fell. "Just so I could thank her for everything she tried to do for me and for having me. I tried to tell her in the hospital, and I'm sure she knows, but I'd love to just talk to her – really talk to her. You?"

"My mother as well," Greyson replied. "Just so I could try to understand everything…and to thank her for keeping me so that I could meet you."

It was hard for Emma to hold back her sad smile because she often felt the same way. She hated that they shared a similar experience but felt it gave them a deeper appreciation for who they did have. Silence fell between them in a brief moment of understanding, and Greyson sighed, rubbing Emma's back gently when a yawn escaped her lips.

"Do you want to try sleeping?" he asked. Emma nodded, reaching back to turn off the lamp on her nightstand. They settled in next to each other, Emma curling back into Greyson's side and smiling when he tucked her in closer.

Emma liked being close to Greyson – loved it, really. She loved being able to curl up next to him, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, and feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek. Greyson felt safe to her, like another extension of home, and she was amazed at how quickly he found a place in her life. She found it odd, but she didn't dare question it when she felt incredibly lucky to have him.

Except her thoughts often spiraled out with her confusion. She didn't understand what exactly led her and Greyson to find each other, and she certainly didn't know why they didn't meet sooner. Then again, it felt as though it would have been more dangerous if she had known Greyson at eleven. At least everyone made her feel like she had made the right decision in saying she would join Fenrir. It wasn't what she wanted to do in the least, but Remus and Elara agreed that it was best. Technically neither of them had ever left Fenrir's pack, so it meant that they had solidarity with each other. After all, the problem was never her joining Fenrir's pack; it was whatever she would agree to after.

Emma tilted her face up to look at Greyson. If it weren't for him still rubbing her arm, she would think that he fell asleep. She wanted to reach up to touch his face, but he held her hand against his chest, and her other hand was trapped against his side. She wanted to trace his features to remind herself who she was next to and memorize his face as much as possible. With his eyes closed, it was bizarre how much he looked like his father, especially in the soft, silvery light of the moon. He was still very much Greyson, but the traces of Fenrir in his face was still startling.

She found it funny that it was difficult for her to look at him before, but now she loved looking at him. Emma loved how his eyes would soften when he looked at her, and she loved the warmth that she would find in them. She hated comparing him to his father at all – he was Greyson, after all, but sometimes it was difficult.

A blush crossed her face when he cracked open his eyes to peer at her in concern. He let go of her hand to stroke her cheek, searching her face.

"Do you need a potion for the pain?" he asked her quietly. "Are you uncomfortable?"

"No," Emma said quietly. "I had another question for you."

"What is it?"

"Do you believe in soulmates, Grey?" Emma asked.

Greyson hummed softly, turning his face to look up at the ceiling, his lips pursing slightly as he lost himself in thought. The hand rubbing her arm came up to stroke her hair, and Emma closed her eyes, enjoying his fingers running through the strands.

"I do now," Greyson replied after a moment. "Like you said over the weekend, it's hard to argue things when blood magic was involved. I love the idea that I found the love of my life so young, and I love the idea of being able to grow older with you."

"Do you really think it could be _us_ , though?" Emma questioned. "I want to believe that it's us, but I'm just worried that I'm wrong. I don't want to imagine it being anything else because the other possibility –"

"Then it's us," Greyson said, kissing the top of Emma's head. "Don't think about any other possibility. It'll be you and me until the end. I feel sure of it. But try and rest; we've got all day together tomorrow."

Pomfrey unceremoniously woke them up early the next morning by staring at them hard from the end of the bed. They didn't do anything other than sleep, but Pomfrey made Emma feel like they had done far more than that. For a moment, she wondered if they had done something more, but she was very much tucked into Greyson's side still. They looked at each other with similar looks of alarm and immediately giggled when she walked away.

"What do you think Dumbledore wants to talk to us about?" Emma asked, looking at Greyson curiously as they ate breakfast. Even though they were in the hospital still, it felt very domestic.

"No idea," Greyson said with a frown. "The bigger question is what do we do after?"

"Well, it'll need to be something that avoids Filch," Emma said pointedly, looking out the window. "Maybe we should go read for a bit by the lake. It looks like it might be nice out."

"Which means we'll have to stop by the library first to find books to read," Greyson smiled.

Emma was about to comment that she had plenty of books that they could read, but then she realized why Greyson would want to go to the library. She could admit that she was partial to their kisses in between the bookshelves, and she readily agreed.

They left for Dumbledore's office in between classes just so they could walk hand in hand together. It felt freeing to be able to walk the hallways and feel like they were an actual couple. It made her feel like they could one day have a normal relationship without worry. The small moment of normalcy was enough to bring Emma joy. She was tired, but she was happy, and it finally felt like her happiness wouldn't be as fleeting as it was in the past. She had no idea when or how it would happen, but she was hopeful everything would work out.

As they approached Dumbledore's office, Emma and Greyson were surprised to see that the gargoyle that guarded the entrance was moved. They looked at each other, unsure why the statue wasn't in its usual place, but they both walked up the stairs. They cast each other one more curious glance, and Greyson knocked on the door which clicked open nearly right away.

"Shall we?" Greyson asked, frowning slightly at the partially open door.

"Might as well," Emma said with a sigh. "Just wish I knew why we were here."

Emma thought that Greyson would have let go of her hand when they entered Dumbledore's office, but he held on tighter. Dumbledore was already aware that they were a couple, as Remus told him, but it still felt odd to be around someone else just holding hands. Emma had been able to excuse their overall sense of togetherness to Poppy as "a werewolf thing," but she couldn't in Dumbledore's office.

As they stepped closer to Dumbledore's desk, walking past the tables of magical objects, Emma's gaze fell on the man sitting in one of the chairs across from Dumbledore. He was an older, slim man, his hair white with age. His hair looked soft to touch, with waves very similar to her own, and hazel eyes that practically lit up when he saw them.

"Ah, Emma, Greyson," Dumbledore said. "How nice of you to join us. There's someone I would like you to meet. This is –"

"Mr. Scamander!" Greyson said, clearing his throat to try and mask his excitement. "I apologize."

"Yes, this is Newt Scamander," Dumbledore chuckled. "Newt is a very old friend of mine."

 _This_ was Newt Scamander? Emma's brow furrowed slightly as she took a closer look at the man, not sure that she believed it. He was somewhat stooped, even while sitting, almost like he was unsure of himself. Renowned Magizoologist Newt Scamander seemed far quieter than she ever expected. There wasn't a single person in the wizarding community who didn't know who Newt Scamander was, his reputation spanning several continents. Everyone owned a copy of his book as it was a required book entering first year at Hogwarts. This quiet and awkward man was the one that was responsible for so many of the issues she now had in her life. He was calm and unassuming, and it didn't seem right. Emma looked from Newt to Dumbledore, her head cocking to the side slightly.

"I was just telling Newt about you, Emma," Dumbledore said. "Newt and your grandfather were very close friends at one point."

"Is that so?" Emma asked tightly. She had no idea that her grandfather had been friends with Newt Scamander at all. It was the sort of thing that she thought would have come up in conversation but never did.

"Yes, Lyall and I were very good friends," Newt said, his gaze dropping slightly before lifting again to look at Emma and Greyson in fascination. "Unfortunately, we've lost contact over the years. He's a brilliant man, and I'm grateful that I was able to work with him on several occasions. He had made a wonderful career for himself."

"He is certainly brilliant," Emma said slowly, casting Greyson a confused look. "I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore, should we come back later? Madame Pomfrey said that you asked to speak to us."

"And she is very correct," Dumbledore said. "While I wasn't expecting Newt to visit today, I do believe that his visit was of excellent timing. You see, Newt believes that he can help make sure that the Ministry understands you belong with your father."

"Oh?" Emma said in surprise. "How so?"

"Well, you see, that's where I need your help as well," Newt said, once again looking between Emma and Greyson. "You see, the thing is you are unique. Half-werewolves are rare outside of a natural pack in Great Britain. There is even less information on your kind than with full werewolves. We thought that if I could spend some time with you, I could submit a case to the Ministry on your behalf. It's from Dumbledore's understanding that one of the issues the Ministry has is they feel that you're dangerous, but we know that's not the truth."

Emma felt Greyson's hand tighten its hold on hers almost painfully. Newt kept most of his focus on her, but the more she watched Newt, the more it seemed he knew who Greyson was. Emma had no doubt that Newt had come across Fenrir in his past, especially if he was friends with her grandfather. The silence in the room was painful as Newt waited for Emma to say something.

"Mr. Scamander, I apologize – I am very aware of the strides you have made for magical creatures in our community, but I don't know how much help you can provide," Emma said, trying to keep the bitter edge out of her voice. She knew she shouldn't be rude considering who Newt was, but it didn't change what his work had done. "If it weren't for _your_ implementation of the Werewolf Registry, then things wouldn't be an issue. It has caused nothing but issues for my family. In fact, the implantation of the registry has led to the absolutely abysmal treatment of werewolves, and it's not fair."

"It was never meant to be the way that it is," Newt said softly after a moment. "The registry was always meant to be a way to ensure that werewolves received the proper care they deserve. I had hoped that by having a proper register, it would help keep infection rates down and make things easier."

"By taking otherwise ordinary people and making them sign paperwork that effectively separates them from their peers? All because they're physically a creature one night a month? By giving the Ministry more incentive to villainize someone for what they didn't choose to be? If you were friends with my grandfather, I'm sure you can understand that my father didn't ask to be attacked. Nor did I."

"I know," Newt said. "The early days of your father's attack were…were terrible. We tried everything we could –"

"So you turned him into a science experiment?" Emma asked. "You all made him suffer through experimental treatments just to see what would work only to realize there's truly no cure."

"There were rumors of an early version of the Wolfsbane Potion working before Belby ever completed the final result," Newt replied. "We thought there was a potential that it would work."

"And it didn't," Emma said sharply. "It only hurt him in the end."

"I know," Newt said. "And that was why I suggested that Lyall never allow him to be added to the registry. I tried to have the Werewolf Registry removed, but unfortunately, there was too much opposition. It's one of my biggest regrets, and I hope there is a day that it either no longer exists or it becomes what it should have always been."

That was entirely new information for Emma to hear. She knew that her grandfather had insisted that Remus never be added to the registry but didn't know there was another reason. She leaned a little against Greyson, and he let go of her hand to put his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer. The expression on Newt's face made him seem genuinely remorseful, but Emma wasn't sure what to do.

All Emma knew was that the registry had caused problems – big problems. Not just for herself but for other werewolves. It was one of the things she either wanted to dismantle or fix if she could. She had always seen Newt as the enemy for creating such a thing, not understanding how a man known for his compassion could create something so disturbing. Though she didn't know Newt in the least, he seemed sympathetic.

"Do you really think it would help?" Emma asked, looking between Dumbledore and Newt.

"We think there's a strong possibility," Dumbledore said. "The Ministry wouldn't be able to argue with Newt's expertise. Your father has requested we keep your paternity out of things, so this could be the next best thing."

"I was thinking I could observe you at the next full moon just to see how you interact with everyone," Newt said. "Nothing invasive in the least. You wouldn't even know that I'm there except to ask you questions."

Emma hated the idea of the entire thing, and she could feel herself start to become overwhelmed. She was in a room with Newt Scamander, who talked to Dumbledore, where they both decided her becoming a _research project_ could be a good thing. Objectively, Emma could see how it would help, but the idea of it seemed ridiculous. It was ludicrous, preposterous, laughable – what benefit would it really serve for her to be observed like an animal in a zoo?

Her half-werewolf boyfriend, who still hadn't come to terms with what he was, was being polite but was tense next to her. Emma couldn't help but wonder just how exactly she found herself in the situation she was in.

"I apologize, Mr. Scamander, but I'm not really sure," Emma said quietly. "I don't…I've had a very trying weekend and an even longer night. I don't know that I can make a decision right now, and I think I need to think about it."

"I believe you have your answer, for now, Newt," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands. "I fear that we might have spoken to Miss Lupin a little too early. The full moon _was_ just last night, and I'm sure she's exhausted."

"Yes, of course," Newt said, looking between Emma and Greyson for a moment in mild disappointment and turning back to Dumbledore. "I'm afraid that I have to leave. Tina is expecting me back sometime _before_ lunch today."

"Of course," Dumbledore said. "Until next time, Newt. Give Tina my best."

Newt stood, pulling his coat that was sitting on the back of his chair back on. He made his way to leave and stopped next to Emma and Greyson, his gaze not lifting from the door in front of him. He looked at Emma and Greyson and then reached into the pocket of his coat, holding out a small card for her to take.

"If you decide that it's something you would be interested in, feel free to send me an owl," Newt said, his eyes doing another quick scan of Emma and Greyson. "It was nice meeting you."

Before Emma could open her mouth, Newt was out the door. She looked at Greyson in surprise, and he seemed awe-struck. He was just as lost as she was over what had just happened.

"Wonderful," Dumbledore said. "Now, I have to apologize. I know I asked to speak to you both, but I fear there is a much more pressing matter that I must speak to Emma about. Greyson, I assume that you will be spending the day at the castle?"

"That was the plan, sir," Greyson said.

"Perfect," Dumbledore said. "If you don't mind, I need to speak to Emma in private for a few minutes. We can put off our conversation until later tonight."

"Er, of course," Greyson said, giving Emma a small squeeze. "I'll be just outside," he told her. Suddenly, Emma was very alone with Dumbledore feeling very concerned over what he could want to talk about.

"Come sit, Emma," Dumbledore said, gesturing to the seats in front of his desk. "I'm sure you feel practically dead on your feet. I remember how tired Remus used to get, and even though you don't transform, it's not any easier on your body."

Emma nodded, slowly making her way over to Dumbledore's desk and sitting down in the seat that Newt hadn't previously occupied. She finally looked at the card in her hand to see that it held an address and tucked it away in her pocket. Emma was beginning to feel as though she should start to give up on finding things weird. Something stranger always seemed to crop up.

"How are you feeling, Emma?" Dumbledore asked, his fingers steepled in front of him on his desk. His eyes were glittering, and Emma had to push aside that weird feeling she always got when he looked at her.

"Not sure, quite honestly," Emma admitted, focusing on one of the strange silver objects on his desk. "Tired, obviously. Overwhelmed with everything. Thank you for allowing Greyson to spend the night with me. It…it helps since I obviously can't have Dad around."

"Of course," Dumbledore said with a nod. "It was a relatively easy request to accommodate, and I'm sure as time goes on, we will readjust as needed. It's a learning process for all of us, though I admit I find your relationship to Mr. Fenmore curious."

"You find it curious, sir?"

"Not in a bad way, not in the least," Dumbledore clarified. "I'll admit that when Greyson first arrived to work on his program with Severus, the staff was fascinated to see how you two would interact. We were all unaware that you two had met just before the start of term, but it was clear you two found issue in each other."

"Well, our first impressions of each other weren't the best. I think we both struggled to separate each other from our fathers."

"And then you found comfort in one another."

"We did," Emma said, feeling the back of her neck heat up. "I'm certainly not complaining, though. It's been nice to have someone other than my family…or Fenrir, for that matter…that I can be open with entirely."

"I think Greyson feels the same way. We were careful to conceal his identity in his time here," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "I wouldn't say he was too shy in his time here, but he certainly held himself back where he could. He became close to most of the staff, and though he had plenty of friends, he couldn't entirely be himself. Greyson has always had a bright future, and I believe the two of you together will ensure that. I think I can speak for everyone in saying that he was a very treasured student – you both are – and we will do everything possible to help."

"I appreciate it," Emma said quietly. "But I imagine you didn't ask to speak to me to discuss my relationship with Greyson?"

"Ah, no," Dumbledore chuckled, shaking his head. "Not just yet. We can save that conversation for tonight. Your father mentioned that there was something important that you meant to tell me about a while ago," Dumbledore said. When Emma didn't answer and looked at him in confusion, he added, "A rumor you heard about Voldemort."

Emma had almost entirely forgotten about that. She was supposed to talk to Dumbledore ages ago, but it had entirely slipped her mind. It wasn't something that she was actively thinking about, too concerned with everything else.

"Oh," Emma said slowly. "I, erm…I apologize. I completely forgot about it."

"Considering how much you've had to worry about, I understand," Dumbledore said gently. "Do you mind starting at the beginning and telling me what you heard?"

Emma nodded and took a deep breath as she tried to collect her thoughts. She should have gone to Dumbledore when Remus told her to because she wasn't sure she would remember everything correctly. Still, she went through everything that had transpired at the Moons as best as she could remember.

"Fascinating," Dumbledore said slowly. "Thank you for informing me of what you learned. Is there anything else that you could possibly think of that could have led to that night?"

"Not really, sir," Emma said. "Erm, the only time I might have learned something would have been at the Quidditch World Cup, but I was with…with the werewolves. I spent my day in the company of the other alphas."

"And they didn't bring anything up of note?"

"No, sir. Mostly they introduced me to the other werewolves, insisted on bringing me to more of the culture, and brought me in like I was one of their own already," Emma said. "I was meant to be spending time with the Malfoys and the Moons, but I went off on my own."

"I see," Dumbledore replied. "I'm afraid that the information you've given me lines up with information I have come across myself."

Hearing Dumbledore admit something of the sort was startling to Emma, and she sat up a little straighter. Fenrir had never lied to her, but she had a few things that she hoped he lied about, especially with the idea of Voldemort returning.

"So, do you believe that Voldemort will come back?" Emma asked, wondering if Dumbledore would tell her more.

"Voldemort coming back would imply that he left in the first place."

"You don't believe that he's dead?"

"No, I do not."

Emma was utterly dumbstruck. Was Dumbledore serious?

"Does that mean you believe that another war will be coming?" Emma managed to ask.

"I believe that there is a strong possibility that things will be changing for all of us in the future," Dumbledore said slowly. "Emma, I must ask a very large favor of you. And I must ask that this be kept between us for now."

"What is it, sir?" Emma asked. She wasn't sure if she was fully prepared to add something else to everything she had to worry about, but Dumbledore was doing her massive favors. Surely whatever Dumbledore would ask of her would be simple.

"Well, your relationship with Fenrir is very unique. Perhaps more unique than the relationship Fenrir had with your father," Dumbledore said. "I am aware that you have been afforded a unique position with Fenrir and his pack. As Fenrir controls the vast majority of the werewolves, there is a strong possibility that he hears things that others won't. It sounds as though he already plans to align himself with Voldemort once more. Would you agree?"

"I mean, that's a complicated answer," Emma said. "He says that he's a free agent, but he has made it clear that if Voldemort offers him what he's looking for, then he'll work with him again."

"That's what I was afraid of," Dumbledore sighed. "I am sure that you will understand the need for discretion in what I ask of you when I tell you, and I apologize for needing to ask you at all. I do not believe that Remus would be happy to hear that I have asked this of you. However, I would not come to you if I felt that you were in any absolute danger."

"You're asking me to keep whatever you need me to do from my father?" Emma asked with a frown.

"I'm asking you to keep this from _everyone_ ," Dumbledore said firmly. "What I ask of you cannot leave these four walls. Do you understand?"

Emma worried her lip between her teeth, not believing that whatever Dumbledore was about to ask her wouldn't be dangerous. Then again, it wasn't as though her very relationship with Greyson wouldn't be dangerous in itself. If Remus wouldn't be happy about what Dumbledore asked, it made her both intrigued and nervous. She thought about it for a moment and nodded.

"Okay," Emma finally said.

"Wonderful. After this, you may enjoy the rest of your day with Greyson and relax," Dumbledore said, a slight smile on his face. "Now, according to your father, it sounds as though Fenrir expects you to meet with him in Hogsmeade once a month?"

"That's how I've understood the current arrangement," Emma said. "He said that it won't be every month, but he plans to make it frequent enough. I know next month he plans to move along to a negotiation of sorts with me. He's aware that I have my issues with joining the pack at all, and er…everything else he expects of me."

"And he informed you of the future you will supposedly have when you met with him this past weekend?"

"Yes, sir."

"Your father told me what you said, but do you mind taking me through it so that I may hear it firsthand?"

Emma took another deep breath and went through the explanation of how the final bits of her meeting with Fenrir went. Dumbledore seemed to look more and more interested as she continued with her story. She hoped that she wouldn't have to go through it again.

"Interesting. Very interesting," Dumbledore said. Emma waited for Dumbledore to elaborate on what exactly he found interesting, but his explanation never came. "From what you told me, it sounds as though that Fenrir will be keeping you close in his sights. I apologize once more for asking this of you.

"Fenrir appears to trust you in a way that he doesn't trust others to share the information he has with you. He has it in his head that you will be of utmost importance to him, and he will not keep you in the dark. It has become obvious over the years that Fenrir is blinded by his desire for power, and he is determined to not let harm come to you. This makes things difficult, of course, but I believe that as long as you declare your allegiance to the pack, he will genuinely keep you safe. The fact he is willing to see you as his equal is an excellent sign. What I will ask of you today is very simple, and we will ensure that you are protected as much as we possibly can. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Emma said slowly, holding her breath to know what Dumbledore would ask.

"Perfect," Dumbledore said. "I ask this of you, then – if Fenrir ever tells you anything of note, any potential information on Voldemort or possible mentions of questionable activity, you inform me as soon as possible. No matter how inconsequential you believe the information would be, I would appreciate knowing it. Do you think you would be able to do that for me?"

"I…yes," Emma said. That was all Dumbledore wanted her to do? She could very easily do that, and Fenrir had told her that he wasn't going to keep things from her on more than one occasion. It was one of the things Fenrir had made very clear about their arrangement before it was ever fully solidified. Emma could say that she trusted that Dumbledore meant it when he said that they would make sure was protected; certainly more so than she trusted Fenrir.

"Thank you, Emma," Dumbledore smiled. "I truly hope that you understand how much I appreciate your assistance. I believe that you may be on your way until tonight – return here after dinner, perhaps? I think that would be perfect."

Emma stood to leave, but as she made it to the door, a thought flit through her mind. She turned back to look at Dumbledore. Something about what Dumbledore asked of her sounded far too familiar, and her stomach sank at the possibility.

"Sir, isn't this exactly what you had my father do during the war?" Emma asked quietly, worried to hear what Dumbledore would say next. "Act as a spy?"

Dumbledore was quiet for a long moment as he studied Emma. His eyes were practically boring into hers, and he was still. Emma hoped for some sort of expression on Dumbledore's face but found none. He continued to stare at her, and Emma's stomach knotted when she realized it was exactly what he was asking of her.

"No one will know, sir," Emma finally said, swallowing around the lump in her throat. "I don't think anyone would be thrilled to know what I'm doing."

"Thank you," Dumbledore said with a small nod. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

Emma was about to leave, but Dumbledore spoke up once more. "Emma, one more thing before you leave," he said.

"What is it, sir?" Emma asked.

"I think it will be best for you to make sure that you and Soleil start to work together. I know it won't be easy, but she will help make sure your thoughts are locked where they belong. If you find that you have issues with that side of yourself, there is someone who could possibly help."

Emma nodded, not entirely understanding what Dumbledore meant. She knew that she had to learn to stop fighting Soleil a little, but what exactly did he mean by keeping her thoughts locked where they belonged? Emma slowly made her way out of Dumbledore's office and down the stairs to where Greyson was waiting. She carefully tucked Dumbledore's request into the back of her mind as she tucked herself into Greyson's side. She had more important things to worry about for the moment, and she was determined to enjoy her day.

She just wished she knew exactly what she got herself into once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving forward, I'm just going to say - no beta, we die like men. If you find anything weird like strange half-written sentences, I swear I will fix them ASAP. I try to do at least three read-throughs of everything, but sometimes it slips through the crack (and I'm sorry). I'm hitting a point where I want to keep the story under lock and key, unless of course you're on Discord and ask me questions (then I will happily answer hehehehe).
> 
> Anyway - who expected this chapter? Or correction, who expected this so soon? Gotta keep things interesting! Also, did anyone have Newt Scamander on their Moonlit series character bingo card? Poor Emma wrote herself for that small interaction as she has some very conflicting thoughts on Newt. We can now officially move along and back into book canon. One chapter on the Triwizard tournament beginnings COMING UP NEXT. I've been missing my favorite Hufflepuffs so I'm excited to bring them back hahaha.
> 
> To all of my late night readers - thank you so much for reading, I love you, please get some sleep and good night! For all of my every other time readers, thank you so much as always, I love you as well. :)
> 
> Also - edited in note: today is also one of my reader’s birthdays! If you haven’t seen the fics that BlindHawkeye has written for me, please go check them out! They never cease to make me giggle and she’s incredibly creative! She adds a completely different spin on my world and I love what she’s written me so much!
> 
> **come find me on:**   
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> 


	47. The Goblet of Fire

Emma found herself in a pleasant dream, brought back to the previous week and her unexpected and very much needed day with Greyson. They were sitting out next to the lake, bundled up in warm clothes to stay safe from the slight chill in the air. As an added bonus, Emma retrieved one of her blankets to cover themselves with. Greyson was leaning back against Emma's favorite beech tree, and she was sitting between his legs, leaning back against his chest.

His knees were propped up, and Emma had one of her arms resting on his leg while he held a book up against the other. One of his arms was snaked around her waist, holding her close as she laid her head back against his shoulder. They found a book of poetry in the library written by a warlock and giggled over the comparisons. Emma had no idea that someone could compare a woman to a unicorn so many times in her life.

"These are absolutely awful," Greyson snorted, scanning through another poem and shaking his head. "I can't believe that this even exists."

"Oh, it's not that bad," Emma said, snickering as she looked at the poem in question. "You don't want to read me a seventh consecutive poem on the purity of a unicorn and a woman's love?"

"My God, no," Greyson said, kissing the shell of her ear. "Pure, yes, but it makes one begin to question who the author was in love with."

Emma thought about it for a moment and turned her head to look back at Greyson, her nose scrunching up. "You think?" she asked. "You think these poems are more about the unicorn?"

"I think yes," Greyson admitted, chuckling when Emma groaned. He closed the book and set it off to the side, wrapping his other arm around her waist and resting his cheek against hers. "I'm partial to Shakespeare."

"I'm not even surprised to hear that," Emma said, the hint of a smile in her voice. She found Greyson's hand to lace her fingers with his. "Any man who can find enjoyment in poetry is absolutely a romantic. They try to hide it, but it's a bit impossible."

"Speaking from experience?"

"I'd say so," Emma giggled. "My Dad adores poetry. He will deny it at all costs, but he's absolutely a romantic."

"He scares me a bit, but I can see it," Greyson said. "You can see it in the way that he cares for you and in the small things he does for you."

Emma nodded with a soft hum. "He's only scary because he's scared, too. But he taught me how I should be treated," Emma said quietly. She looked back at Greyson with a mischievous grin on her face. "I've got impossibly high standards because of him. I hope you plan to meet them, Grey."

"I had a feeling that you did," Greyson said with a huffed-out laugh. "And I certainly plan on trying. It's a good thing that I have an entire lifetime to prove myself to you."

"I look forward to it," Emma said, reaching up to pull Greyson's face down to hers to kiss him. "What's your favorite poem of Shakespeare's?"

"It's not a poem, actually," Greyson said. "It's from Hamlet."

"Hamlet? Really? A bit dark, no?"

Greyson nodded, straightening up and wrapping his arms a little tighter around her. "It is, admittedly…but do you want to hear it?"

"Of course, I do," Emma said, reaching for the ends of her blanket to pull it tighter around them. Greyson was quiet for a long moment, resting his cheek on top of her head, seemingly just as content as she was to just be together.

They were hidden away by the lake, and with everyone else in class, they could be themselves. Even if Greyson never spoke, Emma was more than content to be with him. There were no expectations and no worries, and he accepted her exactly as she was, flaws and all. If he would have run, Emma was sure he would've left after Hogsmeade, but he stayed. He didn't care that she often struggled with herself, didn't care about the constant threat of danger, and didn't care about the multiple scars that lined her body. Greyson saw her as so much more, as someone worthy of being loved and cared for.

Greyson pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head and nuzzled her hair. He was quiet for one more breath before finally speaking softly, "Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love."

Emma swore her heart stopped, and her breathing was practically non-existent. He didn't outright say it, but he _had_ to love her. But could he truly love her already? She supposed it was possible since she couldn't deny that she felt _something_ towards him. Emma tried to wrack her brain to think of something to say back, and she –

"Emma, Cedric, _wake up_!"

Emma groaned, snapping her eyes open to look at an overexcited and Justin, already dressed for the day, practically nose to nose with her. She could kill him. She enjoyed being caught up in her dream that was more of a memory than anything – and a very good one, at that.

She took a look around and heaved a heavy sigh. She had fallen asleep in the common room again curled up against Cedric. It felt like she spent more time sleeping in the common room than in her dorm half the time. Her nighttime routine officially involved grabbing Justin most nights, who would get Cedric, and the three would bunk in front of the fireplace. Each night they would swear to each other they would head back to their rooms, but often the three wound up in a pile together. She was glad that Greyson wasn't the type of person to get jealous easily and, after explaining things, understood her need to be close to others. Then again, it was just one of the things that was rooted into their very beings, and he was the exact same way.

"Justin, it's too early to be up," Emma grumbled, pulling herself away from Cedric, who was equally as bleary-eyed.

"Yes, but that was before I remembered that _they're coming_!"

"Who's coming?" Cedric asked, seemingly just as lost as Emma was at 6:30 in the morning.

" _The other schools_. It's today!"

It seemed like a product of convenience that the Hogwarts rumor mill had immediately been taken over by the announcement that two schools would be joining them. Standing proudly in the entrance hall had been a massive sign stating that students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would be joining them. The sign had inspired talks of who would be entering and had become the most talked-about subject of the school. Emma was just grateful that everyone had seemed to forget about her for a little while. At least everyone forgot about the rumors of her supposed werewolf supremacist views.

The moment the sign had gone up, Ernie had run back into the common room. Emma was milling around with Cedric and a few of the other sixth years when Ernie burst into the room.

"It's next week, Cedric!" Ernie shouted, red in the face from his run back to the basement. "Are you still going to enter?" All eyes were suddenly on Cedric, one of the few Hogwarts students who had expressed interest in participating.

"What's next week?" Cedric asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"The other schools are coming!" Ernie shouted. "So? Are you entering?"

"Oh, I don't know," Cedric had said, rubbing the back of his neck, realizing that everyone was starting to look up at them. "I don't know if it's a good idea."

"Cedric, you have been talking about it since the start of term," said Anthony Otterburn, one of the other sixth years. "It's worth just putting your name in!"

"Come on, Ced, you _have_ to do it!" Caspian shouted from the other side of the room. "Wouldn't it be great if a Hufflepuff was picked?"

"Remember what we said about being stars, Cedric? Now's your chance," Emma said, giving Cedric a playful shove. "I can't have all the glory of being the most talked about student this year for the third year in a row. I think it's time to share the spotlight."

Everyone else who wasn't looking turned their attention to Cedric. A smile broke out on his face, and he shook his head in disbelief.

"Do you all really think I should enter?" he shouted out to the common room.

There was a resounding shout of "Yes!" from everyone, and that was that. It was all the Hufflepuffs could speak of for the entire week, but it seemed the whole castle was abuzz.

The castle seemed to undergo a very thorough cleaning. Portraits would grumpily rub their scrubbed clean faces, and the suits of armor were sparkling and gleaming. Filch was on a rampage, yelling at any student who would forget to wipe their shoes. Filch's ire aggravated Emma to no end when he sent Finley and Raewyn into hysterical tears, and she was grateful to be close enough to both girls to soothe them.

Even the staff was tense, the teachers snapping at even the smallest mistakes. The four heads of houses were absolutely terrifying to deal with all week. Sprout nearly sent Emma into a fit of tears when she almost dropped a pot of bouncing bulbs when she tripped in the greenhouse. Emma was startled by Sprout's sudden outburst, but Justin was quick to make her laugh, much to Ernie's annoyance. Harry and Ron gave her sympathetic looks – apparently, McGonagall had been particularly rough on the Gryffindors.

Emma swore she would strangle Justin if it weren't for the bright smile on his face. Still, it didn't stop her from reaching out and grabbing his tie to pull him closer to glare at him.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley, I should _murder_ you," Emma said. "Are you aware of what time it is?"

"It's time to get up!" he said, clapping his hands in delight and pulling his tie out of Emma's grip. "Get up, you two! We've got a whole school day to get through and some new friends to make!"

"Cedric, can I kill him?" Emma asked as Cedric stretched his arms over his head.

"No," Cedric sighed, leaning over to kiss Emma's cheek. "Because I'm going to kill him first."

Emma snorted and hauled herself up off the couch, deciding she might as well get on with her day. Justin's early wake-up call meant that she wouldn't be going back to sleep, and she wasn't entirely opposed to getting to breakfast early.

When they stepped foot into the Great Hall that morning, it seemed as though the room had been transformed overnight. Massive silk banners hung from the walls, each bearing the house crests: yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, and green with a silver snake for Slytherin. Hanging behind the teacher's table was an even larger banner with the Hogwarts coat of arms.

"They're going all out for this," Emma said, sitting down next to Finley chattering away with one of her friends.

"It's a bit mental, yeah?" Megan said from across the table. "I didn't think they were going to do just this much."

"Well, we're the host school, aren't we?" asked Susan. "Not really much of a surprise that everything would look this way."

Emma found herself tuning out the conversation about the upcoming schools arriving later that day. She turned her head slightly to hear Ron questioning Fred and George about what they were doing. Even after they had broken up, George still hadn't been forthcoming over what he was doing with Fred. It was nice to hear that even Ron was equally as clueless to what was going on.

Her curiosity was even more piqued when Hermione started talking about house-elves again. Emma had apparently been unsuccessful in her attempts at getting her to understand that what she was doing was done in pure ignorance. She had seen Hermione still walking around with her box, trying to win people over, but much like Emma, they found S.P.E.W. a joke. To Emma's dismay, a few people had stated that "Lupin's werewolf supremacy at least makes sense" while laughing as she walked by. It wasn't the worst thing that had been said about her that year at all.

The conversation being had behind her at the Gryffindor table was ended abruptly when a sudden whooshing noise overhead signified post owls. Emma watched as one of Gringotts massive owls dropped a letter in front of her along with an unfamiliar-looking long-eared owl that dropped a letter in front of her as well. A soft smile crossed her face as Greyson's tawny owl, Sprinkles, plopped down in front of her just moments later.

"Hi, Sprinkles," Emma said, petting the owl's feathers and grinning when the owl nipped at her fingers. The origin story of Sprinkle's name never ceased to make her giggle, even if Greyson was embarrassed by it. When Emma questioned him about Sprinkles's name in Hogsmeade, Greyson's cheeks turned pink.

"Her feathers reminded me of vanilla ice cream with chocolate sprinkles," Greyson told her. "So, I decided to name her Sprinkles."

It was a fitting name for the tiny owl. Her feathers were white and flecked with dark brown speckles – just like vanilla ice cream with chocolate sprinkles. Emma joked that Sprinkles had a chocolate fudge topping as the top of her head featured a thick line of dark brown feathers. Greyson had told her when he returned to spend the full moon with her that he agreed.

"Why don't you go rest in the owlery?" Emma told Sprinkles, holding up a piece of toast for the owl. "I'll have a letter for you to send back in a bit. I'm sure you're tired after flying all the way from London."

Sprinkles squashed herself down as she blinked hard, making a happy chirping noise at Emma's offer of toast. She stretched out her wings, pulling the toast between her beak, and flew off.

"Whose owl is that anyway?" Hannah asked, watching as Sprinkles flew away.

"That's, uhm…that's my boyfriend's owl," Emma said without thinking, frowning when she recognized Fenrir's writing on the front of the letter from the unfamiliar owl. "Like father, like son," she muttered, setting Fenrir's letter aside to split open the letter from Gringotts. Fenrir always seemed to write to her after every sixth letter from Greyson. Emma read through the letter from Gringotts, frowned at the deposits made to her account, and looked up at the odd silence.

"What?" Emma asked.

"Boyfriend?" Sally questioned. " _You_ have _a boyfriend_?"

Emma's jaw dropped, and she felt her body grow warm. She didn't even _think_ about what she was saying, and it slipped out far too easily. Emma straightened up with wide eyes as she took in the incredulous looks on everyone's faces. She became acutely aware that eyes were boring into the back of her head, and she couldn't help but wonder if George had heard her.

"I, uhm, yes," Emma said, clearing her throat. "Is that a problem?"

"You have a boyfriend?" Justin asked from her other side, sounding almost disappointed.

"Yes," Emma said slowly.

"Well, who is it, then?" Ernie asked sharply. "Who would go out with someone like _you_?"

"He doesn't go here!" Emma said, glaring at Ernie. It certainly wasn't a lie in the least – Greyson didn't go there. Not anymore, at least.

"Emma's pretty!" Finley said resolutely. "Of course, she has a boyfriend!" Finley turned to Emma with a wide smile. "Is he handsome?" she asked Emma quietly.

Emma couldn't stop the stupid smile on her face. She started to tuck her letters in her bag and bit her lip, finding the edge of her favorite photo of Greyson she had tucked in her notebook.

"He's very handsome," Emma said. "I can show you a photo of him if you promise not to tell." Finley nodded fervently, and Emma motioned for Finley to move closer. She carefully untucked the photo just enough for Finley to look. Emma kept all of her pictures of Greyson with her, just in case, but the one in her notebook was by far her favorite. It was one she had taken without him noticing – or at least she tried for it to be without him seeing. He looked handsome in that particular day's golden hour as the sun started to set, still dressed from teaching. Emma enjoyed watching him read and had sneakily pulled her camera out to take a photo, but then he caught her, and his smile was sweet.

Finley took a look at the photo still hidden in Emma's bag, blinked once, twice, then three times, and then took in a sharp gasp. Emma knew that Finley knew exactly who Greyson was, had nervously come up to her after sitting through one of his classes, full of worry. She knew that Greyson looked like his father and had brought up her fears to Emma. To make things worse, Emma herself had expressed issues with Greyson at the time and had never voiced her very changed opinion on him. Finley was perplexed.

"Emma, that's –"

But Emma didn't dare let Finley finish her sentence and clamped a hand around her mouth with an embarrassed smile.

"Yes, I know who he is," Emma said quietly. "But you are not to say a word to anyone, okay? This has to be our little secret for now because we're not quite ready to tell people just yet."

Finley stared at Emma with wide eyes and nodded as Emma slowly pulled her hand away. She watched as Emma very slowly closed her bag, leaving it on her lap.

"I'm just surprised, is all," Finley said slowly with a slight frown.

"To be fair, so was I," Emma admitted. "But he's sweet. Very sweet. But then again, you should know that already, no?" Finley still didn't look convinced by the idea. "Finn, I assure you that if I didn't think he was kind, I would not be with him. He's nothing like…well, you know."

Emma's last comment was what drew Caspian's attention from a few seats down. While he wasn't actively participating in the new gossip of who her boyfriend was, he was certainly listening in. Justin had looked crestfallen for only a brief moment, but he bounced back quickly and was genuinely happy for her. Emma felt bad knowing Justin's feelings, but she was still of the firm belief they were better friends.

"Em?" Caspian inquired from where he was sitting. "It's not…is it?"

"It's not who?" Emma asked, eating the rest of her breakfast quickly and standing up to head to History of Magic. She had no doubt that Caspian knew who Greyson was as well and wasn't about to tempt fate any further.

The rest of the day seemed to move swiftly, the castle seemingly more excited as the day wore on. Nobody could pay attention during class; everyone was more interested in who was coming from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. In some cases, Emma was questioned who her boyfriend was, but she remained as vague as ever. At first, it annoyed her, but then she started to find it funny and started to make up more and more outlandish rumors. Her favorite comment was saying Greyson was foreign and royalty, and she cringed slightly at the thought. Considering Fenrir's status as alpha of all the packs, Greyson might as well be considered royalty.

When the bell rang early during Transfiguration, the Hufflepuffs quickly made their way downstairs to deposit their things. Emma decided to switch from her normal, everyday uniform into the one she had made of higher quality materials. She had questioned Fenrir's suggestion of just spending a little extra money since she had it, but she was very grateful for following his advice. Emma had a funny feeling she would need to be wearing her nicer sets more often to have a chance at a decent first impression with whoever was visiting the castle. Her reputation was rocky as it was within Hogwarts students, and she wasn't sure how far news of her attack actually traveled.

The Heads of Houses were ordering everyone into lines in front of the castle. It was chilly, and dusk was falling quickly. Emma stood between Justin and Wayne in the fourth row from the front, crossing her arms to try and keep herself warm. She let out a groan when she felt the hat on her head start to slip.

"God, I hate having to wear a bloody hat," Emma grumbled, begrudgingly adjusting her hat. "I hated having to get fitted with one of these in the first place, and I hate wearing it even more. It's too stereotypical."

"It's not that bad," Justin said brightly. "At least you don't look like Draco, who looks like an absolute ponce."

Emma immediately fell into a fit of hysterical giggles as she looked down the row at Draco. Much like the other pure-bloods, he was wearing one of his nicer uniforms as well, his hat sitting primly on top of his head. Emma had to agree that he looked like a ponce, and even though her uniform was nicer, it was _nowhere_ near the quality of Draco's. His robes were made of what looked like an almost silky material, and he was shivering fiercely. Emma couldn't help but wonder how Draco's hat stayed on his head with how much he was shaking.

Everything was silent for seemingly ages until Dumbledore called out from the back row – "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" everyone seemed to ask, looking around for their first arrival. Emma frowned when she didn't see anything, but then suddenly, a sixth year near Cedric pointed out towards the forest with a shout of, "There!"

Students started to make wild guesses of what was quickly approaching them. One student suggested a dragon, but someone else at the front suggested flying horses. The suggestion of flying horses was closest as a dozen massive-winged horses soared towards the castle pulling along a carriage. The carriage hurtled towards them, forcing the first three rows to move backward in fear as the horses landed. With a crash, the horse's hooves touched the ground, the carriage following shortly after. Emma had never seen anything like it.

Very shortly after the carriage landed, a boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage. He fiddled with something for a moment, and a set of golden steps unfurled from the carriage floor. Emma couldn't stop her gasp when the largest woman she had ever seen stepped out of the carriage. She tried not to stare at the woman, but she couldn't stop herself, even as Dumbledore began to clap.

Not wanting to stare any longer than necessary, Emma looked past the woman – Madame Maxime, Dumbledore had said – to look at the Beauxbatons students. They were all shivering in robes that seemed more like Draco's – fine silk and light fabrics. A few students had shawls and scarves wrapped around their heads.

If they thought the horses were impressive, Durmstrang's entrance seemed even more impressive. A few minutes after Beauxbatons' arrival, there was a rumbling, almost sucking sound like a vacuum cleaner along water.

"The lake!" Lee Jordan yelled out. "Look at the lake!"

Everyone's attention was quickly turned to the lake where they watched as a massive boat broke through the surface of the water. Emma didn't think that anything could be possibly stranger than the horses, and seeing the ship rise up from the water made her wonder about wizarding pirates. The ship's occupants slowly began to disembark, their forms stocky and tall as they approached. The closer they came, the more obvious their size was due to the heavy, furred cloaks they wore. While most of them looked to be boys, there was someone that Emma was sure was a girl who looked directly at her.

"Look, Emma," Justin snickered, "you already made a friend."

Emma shot him a glare, and then suddenly, there was a buzzing noise as one name was said repeatedly amongst the Hogwarts students in pure awe – _Viktor Krum_.

Even Emma had to admit that she was sucked in by the idea of a celebrity being at Hogwarts. A part of her couldn't _wait_ to be able to write to Remus and tell him – he wasn't going to believe her.

What followed that night was the longest weekend in the world. After an incredibly filling feast with dozens of international dishes, The Goblet Fire was given a special place in the entrance hall. Emma joined most of the students who milled about the cup where prospective students could enter the tournament. She watched and laughed with the others as students far too young tried to enter their names into the cup and be blasted away by Dumbledore's age line.

All of Durmstrang entered their names into the cup very early on Saturday morning. The lone girl once again found Emma sitting off to the side of the entrance hall. She hid her face in her book in embarrassment as the girl turned to the boy next to her and pointed her out. Emma tried to pretend that she didn't notice when everyone from Durmstrang looked at her, including Viktor Krum. The headmaster, Karkaroff, took one good look at her, practically bearing his yellowed teeth in her direction. That wasn't a good sign in the least.

"Seems you've caught the attention of all of Durmstrang," Justin said, stretching out next to Emma.

"Lucky me," Emma muttered. "It's definitely the whole werewolf thing."

"The werewolf thing? Why does that matter?"

"Justin, half of Durmstrang's classes are on the Dark Arts," Emma huffed. "I can't figure if they want to kill me or if they're fascinated by me. It's not like I can hide the bites…or the scars."

Justin sighed and put his arm around Emma's shoulders. "It'll be fine. It's not like they're always going to be here." Emma honestly couldn't wait for them to leave already.

The students from Beauxbatons were a little less obvious about looking at each other in surprise around Emma, but she didn't miss their curious looks. One of the girls, one with dark hair, had seen her, let out a sharp gasp, and promptly moved away. If Emma hadn't experienced it several times that year already, she would have been more offended, but so far, she wasn't making any friends.

It was a big deal when Cedric went to enter his name into the cup. He waited until it was late Sunday night, only bringing a few people with him in support, Emma included.

"Do I really do this?" Cedric asked as they all stood at the edge of the golden age line in their pajamas.

"Yes! You've been talking about it for weeks!" said one of the other sixth years. "Just do it, Cedric!"

"You did say we were going to be stars, Ced," Emma pointed out for seemingly the hundredth time that weekend. "At least with this, you don't have to be Cedrica, and you can just be Cedric." Emma grabbed onto his arm and stood on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek. "A kiss for good luck! From one star to another."

Cedric sighed, looking between everyone and finally stepping over the line. He looked back at everyone once more and closed his eyes as he dropped his name into the flaming goblet. The flames seemed to sputter for just a moment as it took in the parchment with Cedric's name, but nothing seemed to happen. Deeming it safe, Cedric made his way back to the group. Emma found herself staring back at the cup for one brief moment as they returned to the dorms. Even though she wasn't seventeen, would she technically be allowed to enter the tournament?

Emma mulled it over the entire walk back, wondering if the cup would recognize her status as an adult amongst the werewolves. She thought about it for a few moments longer as she made her way to her bed and then started to laugh at herself. Fenrir was dangerous enough for her to deal with – she didn't need to tempt fate any further.

When Emma awoke on Halloween morning, everything felt _off_. Emma laid in her bed, staring hard at the ceiling, trying to figure out what was wrong, and she was confused. Everything felt normal for once, but she was filled with an incredible amount of dread. She was sure that she was okay. Everything certainly felt fine. She reached out to find Figaro still sleeping on her pillow and then her notebook, which was cool to the touch. A moment of panic flooded her system when she worried that something might have happened to Elara, Sirius, or Greyson. She pressed her palms into her eye sockets, trying to think rationally and not let her worry take over. Everyone was fine – they had to be.

Emma's stomach twisted and knotted itself and sank all at the same time when it suddenly hit her what day it was. It wasn't _just_ because it was Halloween that she was bothered; it was because she nearly…

She immediately sat up, startling Figaro out of her sleep, and pulled her notebook close. She plucked up the quill sitting next to it, twisting it between her fingers. Emma activated it with a frown, knowing right away her father would think something was wrong, but she couldn't not say something. If he hadn't gone to find her that night, didn't tell her everything she desperately needed to hear…she didn't want to know what could have been.

Emma tried to force herself to focus on the fact that she was happy, loved, and mostly safe. The truth had come out in the end, and she had not one but two incredibly wonderful fathers (even though she loved Remus best). She had moved forward, accomplished things she never thought she would, and even had a boyfriend she adored, despite the challenges they faced. She had persevered and worked through every challenge that came her way, but it didn't stop her from feeling guilty.

' _Just wanted to say that I love you_ ,' she scrawled out as quickly as possible, cringing the moment she wrote it. Remus was going to worry.

' _I love you, too_ ,' came Remus's reply, with a, ' _Is everything all right?_ ' shortly after.

Emma sighed, staring at the words on the page.

' _I remembered what today was._ '

Remus's reply took a few minutes to come, ' _Do you need me to come to the castle to see you?_ '

' _I want a hug, but take me out the castle this weekend instead? Do something with just you and me?_ '

' _How about I do both? I'll see you at lunch_.'

True to his word, McGonagall pulled Emma aside when she made it to breakfast to tell her to head to her office at lunch. It was slightly embarrassing how often she was taken out of the castle or spent time with her father, acting more like a first year than a fourth, but she didn't care. She had long since accepted that the closeness she had with her father wasn't typical. However, none of her classmates were werewolves or even half like she was, so it didn't matter.

Her bond with Remus went into the deepest roots of whatever magic created werewolves, and it was special. It was convoluted, of course – lycanthropy was bizarre – but Emma didn't mind that it made them closer. Sometimes the idea of being half magical creature wasn't so bad.

Classes moved far too slowly for her liking, and Emma was overly anxious when lunch came around. The moment Ancient Runes was completed, Emma dashed back downstairs to McGonagall's office, practically tripping over herself. She knocked hard on the door, bouncing on her toes and squeaking happily when the door opened. Emma quickly opened the door the rest of the way and closed it, whipping around to find her father. She let out a breath of sheer relief, feeling much better than she did that morning. McGonagall smiled at the two of them and excused herself with the reminder she would return later.

Emma practically launched herself into Remus's arms, feeling a bit stupid at being happy that he was there. She had just seen him a few weeks prior, but it didn't matter. What mattered was being with him just to prove to herself in a weird little way that she had moved forward. She was a bit broken, definitely not all in the same shape as before, but she was very much alive.

"What is it, baby girl?" he asked her softly when she started to cry.

"I'm still sorry," Emma cried. "For everything from the past year, especially last year. I was absolutely miserable all of last October."

"Oh, fy nghariad bach," Remus soothed, holding Emma a little tighter and rubbing her back. "You don't need to apologize. Ever. I know we have gone over it time and time again, but everything was figured out. You came out stronger than ever."

Emma huffed out a breath, burying her face into the crook of Remus's neck. She wanted to comment on how she didn't feel stronger, but she would be lying to herself. There were still plenty of days where she didn't feel that was true, but she was at a point where she had more good days than bad.

"Did you just come to the realization that I'm right?" Remus asked lightly, chuckling when Emma made a noise to express her displeasure at being proven wrong. "I know I don't say it enough, but I truly am proud of you. You are truly growing up to be an extraordinary young woman. I will forever be in awe of how you handle yourself and how you take on every difficult thing that comes your way." Remus pulled away, holding Emma at arms-length and giving her a soft smile. "Why don't we try and turn today around and make this the first year where it's a good Halloween, yeah? Minerva had a house-elf bring lunch for us, and you can tell me all about the other students."

Spending time with Remus was exactly what she needed. Their conversation seemed to slip back into discussing the previous October, but they were finally talking about it. They had let the moment go by without too much thought, accepting that it happened and moving on. It was almost relieving for Emma to hear what her father had to say a year later, even though it broke her heart to find out just how much she scared him. She knew that he was terrified, but for him to admit it was painful.

Their time together was going reasonably well until she mentioned Karkaroff and a concerned look crossed Remus's face.

"Did you just say Karkaroff?" Remus questioned. "Igor Karkaroff?"

"Yes?" Emma replied, setting down her cup that she had just picked up. "What's wrong?"

"Well…Karkaroff was a Death Eater," Remus said slowly. "He was cleared of his charges, but…"

"He's someone else to worry about?" Emma asked.

"Just approach everything you do with caution," Remus replied after a long pause. "I'll just have to speak to Dumbledore about this, as well. You just worry about yourself – let me handle this one." Remus peered down at his watch with a sigh and glanced over at McGonagall's fireplace.

"You have to go already?" Emma frowned.

"Unfortunately," Remus sighed. "But think about what you want to do this weekend."

Emma reluctantly left Remus to head to Divination. Luckily the class seemed to go by quickly, and Charms went even faster. The excitement of the announcement of the tournament's champions was starting to finally take over, and Emma found herself joining in the conversations more.

When she entered the Great Hall for the feast with Justin, the room was just starting to fill up. The Goblet of Fire had been moved from the entrance hall and sat proudly in front of Dumbledore's seat at the staff table. Nearly everyone was trying to crowd around Cedric, one of the few lone entrants from Hufflepuff. Emma was silently pleased when Cedric made everyone move so that she could take a seat next to him.

The feast seemed to take ages, even with the Hufflepuffs chattering loudly in excitement. It was hard for Emma to focus on any single conversation going on. Everyone was excitedly talking about the possibility of Cedric being one of the champions. Having a Hufflepuff champion would be incredibly exciting when most of the school made fun of their house. When the plates were returned to their pristine state, the room grew louder and then immediately fell silent as Dumbledore stood.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision. I estimate that it requires one more minute," Dumbledore said, addressing the room. Emma smiled at Cedric as he reached for her hand and squeezed tightly with his nervousness. He quickly reached over on his other side to grab Heidi from their Quidditch team's hand as well. "Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber where they will be receiving their first instructions."

Dumbledore took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave, extinguishing all of the candles except for the ones in the carved pumpkins. The room was bathed in a semidarkness, and the goblet seemed to shine even brighter. Its blue-white flames sparkled brightly at the front of the room, and everyone watched as impatiently as ever.

"Are you excited, Cedric?" Emma asked quietly.

"Excited, nervous, scared," Cedric said, his leg bouncing anxiously. "I'm not sure which I feel more of."

"You? Scared? Never," Emma said with a smile. "Anyone who can fly on a bloody broom can't be scared of anything."

"Says the one who was absolutely terrified of it," Cedric teased. "Now look at you."

"Shush," Emma said, knocking Cedric with her shoulder. "This is about you tonight."

Suddenly, the goblet's flames turned red, sparking almost angrily. A lick of bright flame erupted into the air, and a charred piece of parchment fluttered from it. Dumbledore caught the parchment and held it out in front of him to read it by the flames' light that turned blue once more.

"The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum," Dumbledore said in a clear voice.

The Great Hall erupted into applause and loud cheering as Viktor stood from the Slytherin table, slinking towards Dumbledore. He followed along the staff table as instructed and disappeared into the next chamber.

As the clapping and cheering died down, everyone returned their attention back to the goblet, once again waiting impatiently. Only seconds later, the flames turned red once more, and a second piece of parchment shot out.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!" Dumbledore said.

Emma watched as the girl with silvery blonde hair stood up from the Ravenclaw table and followed the same path as Viktor. Emma couldn't stop herself from looking curiously at the two girls from Beauxbatons who had burst into near hysterical tears.

"Think they're a bit disappointed?" Emma muttered to Cedric, who had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

"Don't laugh," Cedric said as seriously as he could. "That might be me if I'm not chosen."

The excitement in the room was nearly tangible, thick with anticipation of who the Hogwarts champion would be. Cedric's hold on Emma's hand was near painful as they waited, but she didn't mind. It felt like hours before the goblet's flames finally turned red once more, and a third piece of parchment fluttered from the fire.

"The Hogwarts champion," Dumbledore said slowly, "is Cedric Diggory!"

It took the Hufflepuffs a moment to process what exactly Dumbledore had said, and the entire table was up on their feet. None of them could quite believe it, but they were excited and beyond thrilled that a member of their house was chosen. After debating which Gryffindor or Ravenclaw or Slytherin would be selected, it felt like the highest honor that one of their own would be competing.

Cedric pulled Emma into a bone-crushing hug after nearly breaking Heidi in two with his embrace.

"Stars – just like you said," Emma said to Cedric when he let go of her. He shook his head, his smile bright and beaming as he made his way up to the front of the room. Cedric cast one final look at everyone before disappearing through to the next chamber. Even though he had already vanished, his applause was the longest by far.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore said when the room started to grow silent again. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real –"

Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was evident what distracted him. The fire in the goblet had turned red again, and a fourth piece of parchment fluttered out. Dumbledore's hand shot out immediately to seize the parchment. He held it out and stared for a long moment, and everyone stared back at him. Dumbledore cleared his throat, barely lifting his gaze to the rest of the room, and read out the name on the parchment –

" _Harry Potter_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finally _finally_ made it to this point. Little bit of Gremma fluff, little bit of Remus moments, a fair amount of Hufflepuff fun, and a **whole lot of chaos beginning**. Anyway, can't wait to see where things go.
> 
> Obligatory mention of passages pulled directly from the book. Was difficult to _not_ completely rehash certain bits, but obviously near the end, well...All the same, expect it to be the same glossing over type bits like the end of Daughter of the Moon. Luckily I can infuse more of Emma's story into the tournament versus the Shrieking Shack scenes which were absolutely brutal to write in the last book. All the same - **yay**.
> 
> To all of my late night readers - please go to sleep. I love you very much, sleep well and good night. To all of my afternoon and morning readers - I love you dearly and have a wonderful day (and also sleep well when you do go to sleep!)
> 
> **come find me on:**   
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> 


	48. A New Plan in Place

Harry being entered into the Triwizard Tournament was not something any of the Hufflepuffs ever expected. They were beyond excited that one of their own had made it into the tournament, but as usual, Harry had somehow wheedled his way in. Emma thought she could be open-minded over the idea considering her relationship with him, but even she was skeptical. Still, it didn't stop her from celebrating with everyone in the common room when Cedric returned from the Great Hall.

"So, what did they say, Ced?" someone shouted from across the common room once the cheering died down upon his arrival.

"They said the first task is designed to test our daring!" Cedric said through his laughs as several people practically tackled him. "The first task is on November 24th!"

"That's really close," Emma said to Justin. "I don't know why I thought there would be more time."

"Just a little over three weeks," Justin said with a slight shrug. "Besides, it's Cedric. He'll be able to handle it."

"What else did they say?" someone else asked as Cedric slowly made his way to the sofas.

"We're not allowed to accept any help from a teacher, and we'll receive information about the second task after the first," Cedric said, plunking down between Emma and Justin on the couch and throwing his arm around their shoulders. "And we don't have to take our final exams."

"Lucky you," Emma said, nudging Cedric with her elbow.

"So, did Potter tell you how he entered into the tournament?" someone else asked.

"Ah, no," Cedric said, his cheeks pinking up when he noticed everyone staring at him anxiously. "He said that he didn't do it."

There was a sudden upswing in noise in aggravation at Cedric's declaration that Harry said he didn't enter the tournament. It didn't seem to make sense that he _didn't,_ and Cedric went over everything that happened while in the chamber with the other champions. The more he talked, the less things made sense – he _had_ to have entered.

"There's no way that he didn't enter himself," Cedric said with a shrug. "But nobody has any idea how he did it."

When the conversation of how Harry entered the tournament was exhausted, they all moved along to celebrating. Even though they had all eaten far too much food at the feast, it didn't stop them from bringing in more from the kitchens. Someone had even decided to bring out their hidden supply of alcohol which Emma very gladly took advantage of. Her father would never know.

Except, she realized, he would probably have an idea of it when she would write to him to tell him who the champions were. She realized that something odd stuck out in what Cedric had told them all about Harry. She mulled over what Cedric said about his experience in the chamber, nursing her cup of whatever potent concoction was made with vodka. She took a sip, running through her thoughts, and frowned. Moody had mentioned the possibility of someone entering Harry with the intention of him dying. That seemed absolutely mental.

Emma excused herself from the festivities to make her way into the dorm, rubbing her head with a groan. Drinking on a Monday night was a terrible idea, and the Hufflepuffs would pay for it dearly, but it was worth celebrating. She was careful not to overindulge, but whatever drink she had in her cup was obnoxiously strong. Emma couldn't figure out if it was better or worse than drinking Firewhiskey.

She practically threw herself into her bed, not bothering to get changed, and grabbed her notebook. It took her a little longer than it should have to activate the book, but eventually, she got it working. She flipped through the pages and pages that were filled with writing, some hers, some her fathers, some Elara's, and a small, sad smile crossed her face. The notebook held so many memories, both good and bad, and it was hard to believe she hadn't even had it for a full year yet.

With a fair amount of difficulty, Emma managed to scrawl out a quick, ' _Are you up?_ '

She wasn't entirely sure if it was written well or correctly at all, but it would have to do. She already knew the answer and that her father would be up, but it felt rude not to ask. Emma peered over at her clock and hummed to herself. It was around two in the morning, and Remus would definitely still be up if she knew him well enough. His sleep schedule was horrendous with her around and even worse without her home, she learned.

' _Yes,_ ' came the terse reply. Emma frowned at Remus's response, looking at her writing, trying to judge if her father knew that she was possibly a little bit intoxicated. She couldn't help that the seventh years made something strong for the celebration, and _everyone_ was celebrating. It was a good night for all of them. Emma really couldn't help that the Triwizard Tournament champions were announced on a Monday.

' _What do you need?_ ' Remus added after what felt like ages. Emma huffed out her aggravation as she pressed her quill to the page.

' _They announced the Triwizard champions_ ,' Emma said. ' _Viktor from Durmstrang, that girl with white hair from Beauxbatons, and Cedric._ '

' _Cedric is the champion for Hogwarts?_ ' Remus wrote back. ' _Must be exciting for Hufflepuff, then. I know you mentioned Cedric planned to enter._ ' Emma had no idea why she gave him a very audible yes even though he couldn't hear it, and she immediately started to giggle.

' _Yes, very exciting_ ,' she finally managed to write. ' _But we've got two champions!_ ' Emma made sure to write multiple underlines under the word two for emphasis.

Remus's reply took longer than she expected. Emma was about to put her notebook away out of fear he fell asleep when his response finally arrived.

' _What do you mean there are two champions?_ ' he wrote. ' _There are three._ '

' _Nooo, two Hogwarts champions!_ ' Emma wrote back. ' _Of course, special little Harry had to enter the tournament too. Nobody knows how he did it, though_.'

Emma frowned at what she wrote. That wasn't _exactly_ what she wanted to write, but perhaps it was. It made her sound angry, and she wasn't angry, was she? She didn't want to enter the tournament, not when she had too much to worry about. Why did she sound so bitter?

' _Emma, get some sleep. You are very obviously drunk, and you're making no sense. There's no possible way that Harry could have entered the tournament –_ ' Emma couldn't stop her scoff at reading her father's reply and rolled her eyes ' – _and I am disappointed you would make up such a thing. I am even more disappointed that you would get drunk on a Monday of all days. I understand that tonight was exciting for Hufflepuff, but we have gone over this before. We'll talk more in the morning_.'

Emma glared at the pages in her notebook and slammed the book closed. Remus wasn't going to believe her? Fine, he wasn't going to be told good night then. She practically threw the notebook onto her nightstand and flopped down onto her mattress with a huff. That would show him.

Except whatever alcohol Emma had decided to curse her the next morning with the gift of a head-splitting headache. Someone's alarm went off and was immediately silenced as quickly as it started. Emma groaned at the uncomfortable sensation of how dry her mouth was, and her tongue felt like sandpaper as she tried to wet her lips. She let out a pained moan and covered her head with her pillow to hide away from the sun.

"Em?" someone called out from across the dorm. "Are you up?"

"Yeah," Emma yelled out with a groan.

"You feel like shit?" she heard Megan ask.

"Yes. You?"

"Shitting hell, yes."

Emma snorted. At least she wasn't the only one who was struggling that morning as Megan wasn't known to swear. Emma rolled over to peer through her half-open curtains so she could watch everyone else. The rest of the dorm was waking up slowly, rubbing their temples and moving as slow as ever. Half of the girls had managed to get changed for bed, but the rest were like Emma and had only succeeded in making it to their beds at all.

"How do you think the boys are doing?" Sally asked, stretching out with a groan.

"Probably worse than us," Hannah replied. "Roger and Wayne went a little overboard."

"What even were we drinking? Ben said it was going to be good!"

"Well, it obviously was good," Emma pointed out. "Otherwise, we wouldn't all feel like the Hogwarts Express ran us all over."

The other girls made similar noises of agreement and started to schedule who would take the first round of showers. With six very hungover girls and only three showers it was a much-needed discussion. They all felt mildly grimy and were in desperate need of freshening up.

"I'll take the second round," Emma said as they continued to debate. She sat up, pressing a hand to her notebook, and hummed thoughtfully to herself when she felt it was warm.

With a sigh, Emma cracked the book open and immediately cringed. It was no wonder her father knew that she was drunk because her writing was terrible and a lot more garbled than she thought. She wondered how exactly he even figured out what she wrote, and his aggravation made sense.

True to his caring nature, Remus wrote out instructions for curbing her hangover as best as possible. He made sure to pepper in his disappointment that she would drink to the point of getting drunk in between his advice, but he tried to be sweet. Emma couldn't help but feel slightly vindicated when he apologized for not believing her about Harry being entered in the competition. She knew that Remus was frequently doubtful, but she _hated_ when he didn't believe her.

Remus promised he would try to listen to her more, but he wasn't sure that he could believe what she said considering the state she was in. He said they would talk about it later, but in the meantime, she had more important things to worry about.

Emma had blissfully forgotten that the next Hogsmeade trip was the next week, and she hadn't thought about what to do with Fenrir. If she was going to be honest with herself, she didn't feel that she would know until she saw him. She knew what she wanted, but striking deals with Fenrir was dangerous. It wasn't guaranteed he would bother keeping to whatever deal they made, but she had to remain hopeful. Fenrir still being willing to negotiate was a miracle in itself – it wasn't a common practice with the werewolf. She would have to tread very carefully around him. But first – she had to get through the day.

The Hufflepuffs were dragging themselves up to the Great Hall, far too exhausted and pained from their celebrating. Durmstrang seemed to be handling themselves a little better than Beauxbatons, which appeared to have a strange divide at the Ravenclaw table. Half of the French school seemed content to sit next to Fleur, but the other half sent angry glares her way.

As soon as Emma sat down, she loaded her plate up with toast, filled her goblet to the brim, and took a long drink. Pumpkin juice had never tasted better in her life, and she munched on her toast, trying to drown out the din of the room. The Hufflepuffs were the quietest they had ever been, but the rest of the Great Hall was loud.

Emma looked up from the book she was reading when she noticed that someone was heading in the direction of their table. She cast a nervous glance over at Justin when she saw that the girl from Durmstrang was striding over in their direction with purpose. Not wanting to acknowledge that the girl was heading their way, Emma quickly returned to her book. Perhaps she was going over to the Gryffindor table behind the Hufflepuff table to say something to Harry.

It appeared that Emma was about to have no such luck. The girl from Durmstrang strode around the table and sat down next to Emma. Emma peered up slightly from her book to glance over at Justin, who shrugged somewhat in response.

"Hello," said the girl, her accent much thicker than Emma expected.

"Er, hello," Emma said slowly, no longer able to pretend that the girl wasn't there to talk to her. The girl had heavy features – dark, thick eyebrows over top dark brown eyes, a long nose, and full lips. She was broad-shouldered with very pale skin. She was intimidating, but Emma found her pretty. The girl stared at Emma for a few moments longer, her brows pinching slightly together as she studied Emma's face.

"You vere attacked by a verevolf," the girl said simply, her gaze suddenly fixed on the bite mark not on Emma's shoulder but on her forearm. Most people simply searched for the one on her shoulder, more fascinated that Fenrir didn't simply go for her neck instead. It wasn't as though Emma was willing to advertise that Fenrir wasn't trying to kill her – at least not yet.

"Er, yes," Emma said slowly, looking over at Justin, who suddenly looked unsure of what to do. Emma _really_ had no idea what to do. She decided to pick up her goblet of pumpkin juice to avoid further scrutinization by the girl. The girl nodded, seemingly pleased that she had correctly identified that Emma was indeed attacked by a werewolf.

"It vas Fenrir Greyback, yes?"

Emma nearly dropped the goblet in surprise, pumpkin juice slopping over the top. She wasn't expecting the girl to bring up Fenrir's name, and it made Emma question just how far his reputation went.

"Uhm, yes," Emma said, frowning. She studied the girl closely, trying to judge whether or not the girl was a werewolf or not. "How did you know?"

"Your scars," the girl said. "It is Greyback's mark. He likes to strike faces."

_Great_ , Emma thought to herself. She had no idea that it was that obvious, and Fenrir's comments about people knowing she belonged to him hit her hard. It had been a while since that thought had crossed her mind, and she was horrified that it was true. Emma could recall vague comments Elara said while she was under her heavy doses of potions saying something of the sort.

"He wasn't transformed when he attacked me," Emma said, not sure what the girl wanted.

"I know," the girl replied, inclining her head slightly to the bite on her shoulder. "The bites are not correct for verevolf. Ehh, is a little, but too different."

"Oh," Emma said, feeling mildly relieved. She had tried to compare the bites to photos she could find in the library, and they were very similar, especially with Fenrir. The girl seemed to struggle with herself for a long moment as she stared at Emma.

"I am Alexi," she said with a slight bow. "Alexi Farkas."

"I'm Emma Lupin," Emma said after a long pause, unsure of whether she should hold her hand out to allow Alexi to shake. She hesitated for a moment and decided not to do anything at all, and closed her book. "Erm, how do you know about Fenrir?"

Alexi's lips pressed into a thin line, and she shifted slightly next to Emma, dropping her hands to her lap. She fidgeted with the bottom of her uniform's top, her face hardening as she looked elsewhere.

"He killed my family," Alexi finally said, meeting Emma's eyes.

Emma's stomach dropped. There wasn't anything accusatory in Alexis's gaze, but Emma still somehow oddly felt like it was her fault. She knew that Fenrir willingly killed people, had known that when he killed Ward and his family, and was ready to go after her little first years. Fenrir had nearly killed Greyson's mother, and Emma honestly wouldn't have been surprised if he had gone after her again in the end. Emma _knew_ all of this, and yet…

She had to remember that her purpose in joining Fenrir's pack wasn't just because she felt compelled to. It wasn't because she needed to rely on his protection in some way to keep herself safe from Jude and whatever else might come her way. Emma was terrified of the idea, but she still wanted to take down Fenrir in some way. When she listened to Greyson's story, it felt like he had given her yet another huge reason to want to destroy Fenrir's reign. It seemed as though she was about to get another reason.

"I'm sorry," Emma said quietly. Alexi shook her head, gaze dropping to her hands in her lap.

"I vas vith my grandmother at the time," Alexi said. "My father – he made deal vith Greyback that vent vrong. Greyback killed them all – my mother, my father, and my two brothers. Did not get me."

"I'm sorry," Emma repeated again, scratching her head. What was she supposed to say? It wasn't like Remus ever prepared her to hear about the fallout of Fenrir's action directly or indirectly. At least Greyson's story she had time to sit with because of Persephone, but this…this was difficult.

"You did not do it," Alexi said. "But our Headmaster, he has told us of you."

"Of _me_?" Emma asked in alarm. The hangover she had seemed to disappear instantly, her entire mood sobering completely. She looked over at the staff table to find Karkaroff amongst the other teachers and stared at him for a moment before turning back to Alexi. "Why?"

"He has told us that you are familiar vith Greyback."

Emma's lips parted in surprise, and she looked back over at Karkaroff, thinking about what Remus had told her only the day before. He told her to be careful around the man, mentioning that he was one a Death Eater. Considering Fenrir's allegiances, it made sense that Karkaroff would be familiar with him, but did that mean Fenrir still talked to him? Or was Karkaroff's information coming from another source? Emma wasn't sure if Karkaroff's comment was meant to be a bad one or not

"Is that true?" Alexi prompted when Emma didn't respond.

"I…" Emma cleared her throat, rubbing the back of her neck. "It depends on how you want to look at it. It's not entirely willing."

"But you are villing?" Alexi asked, her tone sharp.

"Because I want to ruin him. I want to take him down however I can."

Alexi looked taken aback by Emma's vehement declaration. Her chin lifted slightly as she searched Emma's face, not quite believing her. Emma knew that it had to sound ridiculous coming from her considering how small she was.

"I know it seems mental," Emma said. "But I know Fenrir, and I know Fenrir well, unfortunately. He…I was taken away from my family very young, and you could say that Fenrir raised me."

"He still attacked you?"

"Yes," Emma said quietly. "Among other things. I don't agree with Fenrir or his actions. He attacked my father too and threatened to kill a few of my friends. I don't like Fenrir at all, but I think I can take him down."

"Your father – he is verevolf."

"Yes. He was Fenrir's first. But my father's kind and is nothing like Fenrir."

"And you are not."

"Yes. I'm half, but not full."

Alexi studied Emma for another few moments, and Emma glanced back at Justin, who was listening to the conversation in curiosity. She had told Justin most of what she had just told Alexi but never mentioned wanting to take Fenrir down, and the panic on his face was evident. It was the same look that Greyson had given her when it had slipped out in her anger. Emma quickly realized that she had said too much, and if Fenrir were to know, it wouldn't end well. She was sure that he already knew, but if word got back to him that it was true, she would be in trouble. Word got back to Fenrir scarily fast, and she had to see him the next week – it was dangerous timing.

"I vill tell the others," Alexi finally said. "This changes things. They are not trusting of you."

"Your Headmaster can't know of my plans," Emma said quickly, panic rising up and making her chest tighten painfully. "If Fenrir hears what I want to do –"

"He vill not know," Alexi said, standing up and looking up at Karkaroff. "He is fair, but ve do not like him. Ve like Greyback less. He is menace."

Emma watched Alexi make her way back over to the Slytherin table, and she scrubbed her hands over her face. She didn't understand the entirety of her interaction with Alexi, and she wasn't sure why she still felt guilty. It wasn't as though she was responsible for Alexi's family being killed, but she couldn't help but somehow feel responsible. But then Emma found herself wondering what exactly Alexi meant by things being changed. What did that mean?

Emma was startled when she felt someone touch her arm and her head snapped over to look at Justin.

"Em?" Justin questioned. His brows were knit tightly together, a crease forming between them.

"What?" Emma asked.

"Emma."

"Yes?"

Justin was quiet for a moment, and he frowned. "What was that you were saying about wanting to ruin Fenrir? You were just saying that, right? You're not going to actually try anything?"

Emma fell silent, stuffing a piece of toast in her mouth and shoving her book bag into her bag. Rather than answer, Emma said nothing at all. If she didn't admit it twice, she could deny that it was ever said.

"I'll see you in Defense," Emma said before making a hasty departure from the Great Hall.

It seemed like time moved into a weird state of moving far too quickly and much too slowly at the same time. The castle seemed divided once more, and Emma was glad that it wasn't because of her for once. Nearly the entirety of Hogwarts was excited to have Cedric as their champion, and the other half was aggravated that Harry was as well.

Emma was firmly in the middle on the Harry situation, unsure of what to think. Whatever information Remus might have learned from Dumbledore he kept silent, which didn't help. She still hadn't decided whether or not she was jealous or not. The tournament was known to be dangerous, but Harry was supposed to be like her little brother. That's what Sirius told her time and time again. If Harry had found a way to enter the tournament, he could have told her even if she wasn't going to answer. Then again, Emma's thoughts kept going back to what Cedric said Moody had insisted on while in the chamber.

After talking to Alexi, the students from Durmstrang seemed to warm up to Emma a little. Whatever Alexi said had apparently been favorable, and they always seemed interested in what she had to say when she sat at the Slytherin table to talk to Persephone. She never had anything fascinating to say, but the students from Durmstrang listened to her as attentively as the others. A small wave of smugness would sweep through Emma's veins each time the Durmstrang students ignored Draco in favor of her. Emma couldn't help but wonder if their opinions would change further if they knew she was a Black. Did the Black family name have a reputation outside of Great Britain? However, the Durmstrang students weren't the only students who started to warm up to her.

It was purely accidental that Emma found a way to connect with the students of Beauxbatons on a very minimal level. Nothing brought people together like shared experiences or sharing a class, after all.

She had been walking along the first-floor hallway, wandering during lunch, when she heard classical music playing from one of the classrooms. At first, Emma thought it was Flitwick working with the frog choir, but then she listened a little closer. It didn't sound like there was singing at all, and she decided to follow the music.

Curious, Emma peered into the half-open classroom door when she found where the music was playing. Her jaw dropped in surprise when she realized what exactly they were doing. Dressed in leotards that were the same color as their school uniforms, Emma watched for a few moments as they ran through ballet exercises. She wondered if everyone at Beauxbatons took ballet, but she noticed that only a few students were standing at the barre. Perhaps they were different levels? She suddenly had a lot of questions and was very curious.

Emma froze solid when one of the students noticed her in the mirror and turned to the person behind her to say something. She was about to leave, but their teacher was at the door before Emma could get far.

"Yes?" the teacher asked, her expression pinched as she looked at Emma. "What are you doing? Do you need something?"

"Sorry," Emma said quietly at the teacher's accusatory tone. It was weird to be watching, but in her defense, the door was open. Any other person could have walked by and done the exact same thing she did. "I was walking by and heard the music. I didn't realize that ballet was taught at Beauxbatons."

"It is for after class," the teacher said slowly. "It is not a normal class."

"Oh," Emma said, peering past the teacher for a moment. "Just thought it was interesting to see. I was just thinking about how much I miss my classes. But I'll go –"

"Wait," the teacher said, forcing Emma to turn back around. "You have taken ballet?"

It took Emma a few moments to realize that the teacher in front of her didn't have a heavy French accent like the others. She wasn't entirely sure where the teacher was from, but she had gotten used to hearing random snippets of French that she forgot other countries went to Beauxbatons.

"Yes," Emma said quietly. "I was to start going en pointe before I received my Hogwarts letter, actually."

The teacher studied Emma for a moment, humming thoughtfully.

"Stay here for a moment," she said, returning to the other students and talking to them. The students cast Emma furtive glances, one of the boys sneering in Emma's direction and rolling his eyes. Emma shifted nervously where she stood, unsure of what exactly was being said, and she straightened up quickly when the teacher returned. "Do you have your things with you?"

"I do," Emma said. "Everything is in my trunk."

"Good," the teacher said. "We meet here at lunch three times a week. Join us on Thursday."

Emma didn't mind having her time filled up with different things, and she didn't mind trying to make new friends, but she felt odd. The entire school year had proved to her that she didn't quite fit in with any single specific group. She had her friends, of course, but that sense of belonging wasn't entirely there. It only served to keep Emma as confused as ever.

The Hogsmeade trip was rapidly approaching, and Emma found herself not focusing on the day as much as she should. Emma could count her days in ballet lessons with the Beauxbatons students, pick-up games of Quidditch, guitar lessons with Cedric, and the overall celebrating in the common room. When she wasn't shadowing Madame Pomfrey, most nights were spent in the common room debating what the first task would be in the tournament. So far, their favorite theory was having to take on Hagrid's Blast-ended Skrewts. Anyone would need to have their wits about them along with daring and nerve to deal with them.

Emma, feeling bad about how the school was treating Harry, decided to try and talk to him and play the role of older sister. She had noticed that Ron wasn't hanging out with Harry, and it seemed odd to see the trio not being all together. Emma wasn't sure what that was about, but she still decided to give things a try. Their relationship wasn't the best, but Emma understood how terrible it was to be talked about and had been on the receiving end for weeks. It was lonely, and even though she was obviously supporting Cedric, it wasn't like she couldn't be Harry's friend.

However, Harry was immediately on the defensive the moment Emma approached.

"Have you come here to talk about me to my face, or have you decided you only want to talk to me because you want the bloody map?" Harry snapped at her at breakfast.

Emma stared at Harry, taken aback, and raised an eyebrow in Hermione's direction when she didn't say a word. Emma was astonished that Harry would dare say such a thing when she had been nothing but pleasant. She still talked to him during classes and kept things friendly, not daring to ask how he had entered the tournament. To have Harry have an attitude right away with her was bothersome. She had been nothing but pleasant to him over the years, had defended him during their second year when no one was there for her either. Emma was starting to think she would never have a real friendship with Harry, and whatever hopes Remus and Sirius had for them being close were long gone.

"You know, I was coming to be your friend, but never mind," Emma said sharply. "In case you've forgotten – everyone has talked about me the entire school year. At least _I_ made an attempt to try and talk to you when everyone else has been a right arsehole."

Emma felt only the smallest amount of guilt when she helped Draco make adjustments to the support badges made for Cedric. She giggled along with the other Slytherins when they finally figured out the proper spells to adjust their buttons. The buttons would appear normal, glowing red letters reading: _Support CEDRIC DIGGORY – the Real Hogwarts Champion._ The letters would change to brilliant green with a press of the button and read: POTTER STINKS. It was the funniest thing she had ever been a part of. When some of the other Hufflepuffs caught wind of the adjustments, Emma was suddenly back in some of her housemate's good graces. Even Cedric had to admit that the buttons were a little funny, but as Prefect and champion, he told them off. Although, he made only a half-hearted attempt to stop the others from wearing the buttons.

Remus would be disappointed in her if he knew, but she would make excuses that it helped her work on her charms. It was innocent in comparison to the things the Marauders were doing in their school days. As long as it never got back to Sirius, it would be fine. Harry was Sirius's golden boy, after all…

Emma's mood was admittedly miserable the entire rest of the week after Harry's comment. By the time Friday came, Emma didn't think it could get worse. Emma left her appointment with Dr. Wheeler that night with the unexpected news it would be her final session with no real explanation why. She couldn't help but wonder if Fenrir had gotten to the doctor, but something told her Jude was the real culprit.

She plunked herself down in her bed after her session with Dr. Wheeler, scrubbing her hands over her face. She wondered if Remus even knew that the one thing that kept her mildly sane while at Hogwarts was forced to an abrupt halt. It wasn't like Emma _needed_ to continue going to therapy. She was armed with multiple methods of taking care of herself, but she had grown to like it. She had been so averse to trying things out, but nearly a year later, Emma found herself appreciating the hour-long sessions every two weeks. Emma had _really_ been looking forward to it knowing that she would have to be with Fenrir the next day.

With a grumble, Emma pulled out her notebook to write to Remus. She wanted to know if he had known that it would be her final appointment, but to her surprise, her notebook was already warm. That was never a good sign.

It took Emma nearly everything she had not to throw her notebook across the room in frustration. She read the words over and over, a mixture of anger and fear sweeping through her – why did everything have to be so complicated?

' _I can't be in Hogsmeade tomorrow like planned. I have to attend an emergency meeting tomorrow because they're questioning Sirius's involvement in your life. I'm so sorry, fy nghariad, but in a way, this is good – it means they can no longer use me as an excuse to keep you away. Just go with what you feel is right, and if we need to change things, then we'll both go to Fenrir. I love you so much._ '

Emma felt Soleil practically nipping at her heels, and Emma's skin bristled with her frustration over the entire situation. The full moon was the next week, and she could already feel the pull of it. If it wasn't one thing, it was another, and Emma didn't even know what to focus on anymore. She found her thoughts so overwhelming that her energy had been devoted to being annoyed with Harry instead of where it needed to be.

All she wanted was to know that she could return home at the end of the school year where she belonged. She wanted everyone to be safe – Remus unharmed, Sirius free and not on the run, and Elara no longer under the threat of execution. Emma wanted Sirius to love her the way that he seemed to love Harry, but she felt that was impossible if he was never in one place. She _knew_ that Sirius loved her, but it was clear that it wasn't entirely the same. Sirius had to go back on the run, and in the time he had been away, she had heard from him once while he wrote to Harry several times. Remus tried to tell her that Sirius suffered severely from survivor's guilt, but she was _his_ child, not Harry. Remus was all she really needed at the end of the day, but it didn't take away the hurt she felt. At the moment, she was Emma Black, and she wondered if the Ministry had picked up on that piece of trivia finally or if it was just Sirius's criminal status.

She wanted to understand what exactly Jude had done to her mother and wanted to understand Persephone's involvement in everything. She wanted Jude _gone_. Emma wanted to figure out precisely who Fenrir was, not even just for herself, but to give Greyson some form of clarity. It always felt stupid that Fenrir raised her as his own when his son was _right there_. Fenrir had his own flesh and blood out in the world – he didn't _need_ her for anything. Even though Greyson was better off and didn't blame her for anything, Emma hated that she had the sort of relationship he should have had with his father. Everything was utterly backward, and Emma wasn't the only one who suffered for it.

She wanted to right every possible wrong that she could and still be able to have her freedom while taking care of the people who needed it most. There were so many things that Emma wanted to do – change laws, create safety nets, and protect innocent werewolves. Emma wasn't even sure if she could do any of it and had no idea what to do.

Until she finally did.

It was going to be risky – terribly risky, but she was angry. She was mad at Jude, pissed at the Ministry, and even more furious with Fenrir. Fenrir had the opportunity to do so much more for her, could have ignored her for someone else, but he was blind in his obsession for power. She knew _exactly_ what Fenrir wanted, and she had to start thinking like him; be shrewd and demanding just like he was. Emma had no idea how much Fenrir would agree to, but a plan slowly formed in her head.

The only person who would change things was her, and Fenrir was going to help her do exactly that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: I have very few excuses over why this chapter took so long, but I also have a million reasons why. OOPS. This be a filler chapter, I think. Not my favorite, but you all seem to like the chapters I'm not fond , why am I oddly excited for another Fenrir chapter so soon? HEH.
> 
> That being said, some of my time has been spent working on a modern AU novella-type fic for all of my Greyson x Emma lovers titled [Written in the Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29717568). I'm totally admitting that it's meant for a competition over on Wattpad, but the names are totally changed over on there (please don't judge me - I'm trying to branch out a bit). I swear it's 100% me, though if you somehow come across it. It'll be super cute - plenty of romantic fluff and aaahhhhhh. Please please please go check it out (on here...lol). It'll be less than 40k words, so it'll be a challenge for me to write, but I hope you all enjoy it all the same!
> 
> Anyway, to all of my late night readers, please go to sleep! I love you and good night! To all of my other times of the day readers - I hope you had a wonderful day, and I love you!
> 
> Also, if you're interested in joining the Discord - please drop a comment so I can send you the invite! :D
> 
> ALSSOOOOOO, if you're on TikTok, a certain reviewer of mine has started Moonlit TikToks with her brilliant closet cosplays~. I'm going to be dueting at some point because they're perfect and now I'm totally trying to think of a TikTok tag. This is such a flattering thing and it brings me such incredible joy. Thank you so much Abby for being absolutely adorable and making these for me!!
> 
> [TikTok1](https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMejMaEWR/)
> 
> [TikTok 2 ](https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMejMc61R/)
> 
> [TikTok 3](https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMejMWP8u/)


	49. Dealing With the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **a/n:** mild Jude warning, mild Fenrir warning???

To say that Emma was exhausted was putting it far too simply. She had spent almost the entire night trying to work through what she wanted to do and what her plan was. By the time she had a solid idea of what she wanted to do, it was five in the morning, and she had to brew the Wolfsbane Potion. She took a quick half-hour nap before forcing herself out of bed and down to the dungeons. Emma didn't think it was one of the better batches, but it would serve its purpose.

She felt foolish sitting in the Hog's Head once more and felt even stupider that she had arrived before Fenrir. However, she had a plan, and she needed to show him that she meant business. Being several steps ahead of Fenrir was the most important thing. She would have to play nice with him even though she was still angry with him, but it would make things that much easier.

She stared sleepily at the bottle of Butterbeer she was nursing. She had tried to order something other than Butterbeer, perhaps a Firewhiskey or even Berry Ocky Rot, but the barman wasn't having it. With an aggravated huff, Emma tossed down the last few Sickles she had on her. She dropped her wand and knife off as he handed her a dusty bottle of Butterbeer. She flashed him a sneer as she snatched the bottle up and proceeded over to the table Fenrir brought her to last time.

Emma's head snapped up as someone sat across from her, and she was only mildly startled by the growl that escaped her lips. Apparently, the tired version of herself was more than willing to let Soleil out, but then again, Jude always seemed to inspire that reaction.

"What the fuck are _you_ doing here?" Emma snarled as she looked at Jude. Somehow, he looked more arrogant than the last time she saw him. Knowing what she knew about him, his dark, dragon-hide suit was almost pathetic. He had gotten a haircut at some point so that he looked even more like a proper ponce with his hair pushed back. Emma thought he looked stupid.

"I could be asking you the same thing," Jude drawled. "On a date with your dog?"

"Oh, fuck off," Emma scoffed. A part of her knew she should be worried because her wand was most definitely at the bar, but Jude didn't know that. "Here for a date with your boyfriend? I see he isn't here, so does that mean he stood you up? Can't say I'd blame him – who wants to look at you?"

"Such a little bitch, just like your whore of a mother."

"Don't you dare talk about my mother like that," Emma growled through grit teeth. She started to rise from her seat, but a firm hand pushed her back down. Emma felt herself start to growl out of pure instinct at who the new person was. Her head whipped around to give them a piece of her mind until she realized it was Fenrir. He peered down at her, an eyebrow lifting slightly.

"Settle down, little one," Fenrir said gruffly, the hand on her shoulder sliding across her back to her other shoulder as he stood next to her. Emma didn't entirely hate the gesture for one of the first times ever, surprised by the sudden solidarity. "What are you doing, Jude? Where's your boyfriend?"

Emma bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling at the dark look that crossed Jude's face. Jude seemed less than pleased to see Fenrir, and the muscle in his jaw jumped. He looked between Emma and Fenrir, looking as though he was holding back from saying something.

"Spit it out, Judas," Fenrir said with a drawn-out sigh. "You're wasting my time. I've got business to take care of."

Jude ran his tongue over his teeth, fixing Emma with a hard stare and letting out a single disbelieving laugh.

"Well, if you would have taken care of business already, I wouldn't have to act as if I give a shit," Jude drawled, crossing his arms as he looked up at Fenrir. "Since you've decided that this worthless waste of space deserves to be around, I now have to uphold my end of things. I have to at least pretend that I have any desire to see her, so I can make sure that I can take care of the issue myself. And as I'm legally considered her father for the moment, that means I've had to make some oh so difficult decisions."

"So it _was_ your fault," Emma said sharply. Fenrir's grip on her arm tightened slightly, and Emma continued to glare at Jude. "You're the reason Dad can't be here today. You're why I've been pulled out of therapy, isn't it?"

"What did you just say?" Fenrir asked Emma. His tone was an odd mixture of soft and demanding, and Emma grimaced.

It took Emma a moment to meet Fenrir's gaze, and his expression was dark. Fenrir didn't entirely understand the idea of therapy or why she needed it but understood that it helped her. She could still recall the befuddled expression on Fenrir's face as they sat in her room at the Moon's at three in the morning one night.

It wasn't the first time they had the discussion, but it was the first time Emma was willing to discuss things more in-depth. She remembered the way Fenrir's eyes were narrowed, face twisted with his confusion as he held a cigarette between his teeth. Emma was more than relaxed with the joint he gave her, and she most definitely laughed when he just shook his head with a muttered, "I don't fucking get it." All Fenrir had gotten from the conversation was that it was something that she needed to do to take care of herself, and that was enough. He wanted her as healthy as possible.

"I had therapy last night and was told it was my last appointment," Emma said. "When I got back from it, I was informed that Dad wouldn't be able to come to be here today. Apparently, there was a need to have an emergency meeting as they're pulling Sirius's involvement in my life into question. Last I knew, they weren't bringing Sirius up at all and that things were in _our_ favor."

"Interesting," Fenrir said, looking over at Jude. "And you wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that, would you, Judas? I thought we went over this already."

Emma picked up her Butterbeer bottle to take a drink, more than content to let Fenrir deal with Jude. She was set to shoot Jude a glare as he opened his mouth, but before he had a chance to get a few words out, Fenrir was on him. Emma could care less about Fenrir having his hand wrapped tightly around Jude's throat. She snorted as the barman shouted a "Fucking really? Again Fenrir?" but Fenrir didn't relinquish his hold. Emma had no idea what Fenrir was saying to Jude, and though she really wanted to know, she thought it best to enjoy her drink. She tried to keep her attention elsewhere, but she was oddly fascinated by what was happening in front of her. Emma wasn't at all sure what that said about her.

When Fenrir released Jude, it was only because Ellis had stepped into the building. Emma turned her head to look over at Ellis and gave him a friendly wave which he sneered at. Jude pulled himself up, his face twisted in a rage when Fenrir let go of him. Emma tensed up as Jude went to pull his wand out, but Fenrir was much quicker, his hand gripping Jude's wrist and squeezing tightly.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Fenrir growled. A faint smirk crossed his face as he squeezed Jude's wrist a little tighter. Emma was surprised when Jude immediately dropped his wand back in his pocket and was impressed with herself. She knew just how hard Fenrir's grip could be, and she held onto her wand for much longer. Even though it had been months, Emma decided to add a proverbial checkmark to her name – another win for Emma Lupin. Jude practically scurried over to Ellis, sending a withering glare in Fenrir's direction.

The quietest growl Emma ever heard from Fenrir rumbled up from his chest, and she froze slightly when he looked at her fully. He was aggravated, and though his aggravation wasn't directed towards her, it was enough to worry her. She flinched back slightly when his hand came out to cup her chin and lift her face to look at him. His touch was gentle, and if Emma wasn't going into things with a plan in mind, it would threaten to break her resolve. She had to remind herself that she was pretending to be willing to work with him; his unexpected softness didn't change every single terrible thing he had done. Fenrir would always be a monster.

"Did you not sleep?" he asked. His hand moved from her chin, and he brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek as he studied her. It was too reminiscent of Remus's actions for Emma's liking, but she tried to ignore it. This was all a game.

"No," Emma muttered, setting her bottle back down on the table and trying to hold back her yawn and failing. It was an awful idea to consider negotiating with Fenrir in such a state, but it somehow didn't feel like one of her worst decisions. Then again, that was possibly Soleil talking for her. Emma's eyes closed unwillingly as Fenrir's hand came up to run through her hair. Her entire body stiffened when she felt the scratch of his nails against her scalp, but he was careful.

"I know you're tired because this practically has you purring like a kitten," Fenrir chuckled.

"Oh, shut up," Emma grumbled. "The past few weeks have been miserable."

"I can tell," Fenrir said, sitting down next to her instead of across. His hand came back up to run through her hair, fingers playing with the strands. "Your hair is getting long again. But you've also lost weight."

Emma tried to keep herself from scowling at Fenrir, but she couldn't stop her face from twisting with her aggravation. Of course, Fenrir would pick up right away that she had lost weight, but then again, she had noticed it too. It wasn't like she planned to lose weight, but the nightly games of Quidditch and ballet kept her more active than usual. Emma was doing something from the moment she woke up to the time she finally convinced herself to sleep, and if she forgot a meal or two, well…

She had been startled when she looked at herself in the mirror that morning. Her eyes were still bright, something that she was still getting used to seeing, her hair shiny and healthy. Even her skin was less prone to spots, but there was no denying that she had lost weight. Emma wouldn't consider it unhealthy, not exactly, but it was certainly evident in her face. She figured that she could more than make up for it during the week.

"I'm still eating," Emma muttered when she took in Fenrir's disapproving stare. It was the exact look that Remus would give her if he saw her, disappointed and unsure that she was telling the truth. Apparently, she still hadn't won over that bit of trust in Fenrir as he looked dubious. She glanced over at Jude and Ellis talking quietly at the opposite side of the room, and sighed. "I've been playing Quidditch a lot more. And I didn't bother putting it in a letter since I knew I was seeing you today, but I've been doing dance again."

"Ballet?" Fenrir questioned, his expression curious for a moment. "Ah, you've made friends with the students from Beauxbatons," he added in understanding. "You did always say you wanted to go to Paris and take lessons when you were younger."

Emma nodded, shoving Fenrir's hand away lest she get too comfortable. "I wouldn't say that I've made friends with anyone from Beauxbatons," Emma huffed. "The moment they heard your name and mine in the same sentence, they've been steering clear of me."

"And why would our names be said in one sentence?"

"Remember? Werewolf supremacist," Emma said, giving Fenrir a pointed look. "One of the boys from Beauxbatons was very curious to know about where my scars came from. I'm not too sure who told, but they mostly avoid me now."

"And Durmstrang?"

"Well, that's a different story," Emma said slowly. "But I don't feel like talking about that right now." Fenrir looked less than pleased, but he nodded, looking over at Jude and Ellis for a long moment.

"Bastards," he muttered. "Can't even bother to wait until I leave…"

"Do I want to know?" Emma asked.

"No," Fenrir growled. "But don't worry about it – I'll take care of it later."

"Well, that's one of the things I wanted to talk about today," Emma muttered, letting her attention turn back to Jude and Ellis.

"Hold that thought," Fenrir said, rising from his chair. Emma waited for Fenrir to elaborate, but when he didn't and walked away, she sighed, leaning back in her chair.

 _This will be worth it in the end_ , Emma heard Soleil whisper from the confines of her mind. _If we are to succeed, we need Fenrir._ Emma groaned, rubbing her temples, already wanting Soleil to shut up. It was already frustrating to have to listen to the more annoying part of her consciousness all night.

 _I'm well aware,_ Emma thought. _Shut up. You're annoying._

 _I'm you, remember that,_ Soleil responded.

Emma rolled her eyes, hating that little reminder. If she didn't hear it from Soleil, Fenrir had no problem in reminding her. She was sure to hear it at least once from Fenrir if she dared to let her thoughts stray a little too far.

A glass of a very familiar cinnamon red drink was placed down in front of her as Fenrir returned. Emma's eyebrows shot up in surprise as he sat across from her in question.

"You look like you could use it," Fenrir shrugged, taking a drink from his glass.

"I'm surprised," Emma said, pushing her half-empty bottle of Butterbeer to the side in favor of the Firewhiskey in front of her. She picked up the glass and stared at it for a long moment before taking a drink. The fiery heat from the alcohol was exactly what she needed, and the burn of the liquor going down her throat was almost soothing. "You spent two weeks straight complaining about me wanting to drink more than one glass of wine, and yet you've decided a Firewhiskey is all right today?"

"I'm here to make sure you're not overdoing it. And I'm sure it's a hell of a lot better than whatever shit you were drinking two weeks ago," Fenrir said, an eyebrow arching. Emma paled slightly at the comment as she was positive that information didn't leave the dorms. She certainly didn't tell Persephone about her terrible hangover.

"And what makes you think I was drinking?" Emma asked, setting her glass down and pushing that to the side as well. Was Fenrir testing her again?

"Well, besides how obvious it is by how fast your heart started to race, I have my sources," Fenrir said vaguely. "And no, it's not the little songbird. I haven't written to her in weeks. My new source has been, ah…far more informational and willing to work with me. So…is there anything that you need to tell me?"

Emma was silently grateful that Fenrir had already put her on edge as his question made her nervous. How did Fenrir manage to turn everything around on her so quickly? Who was his new source, and how much did his new source know? Emma's eyes narrowed slightly as she searched Fenrir's eyes, trying to look for any signs of deception, but she knew better. Fenrir never lied to her.

"Is it Karkaroff?" Emma questioned after a long moment. It was the only logical explanation she could come up with, and she frowned when Fenrir let out an amused, barking laugh.

"Absolutely not," Fenrir laughed, jerking his head towards Jude and Ellis. "He's just as spineless as those two. Sung like a bloody canary at his trial just to get his name cleared." Fenrir leaned towards Emma, his gaze searching. "Don't bother asking who it is because I doubt that you would believe me if I told you. In the meantime, let me ask you once more – is there anything you need to tell me?"

Emma still wasn't understanding what Fenrir was getting at, and she frowned at him. Remus had mentioned that there was a strong possibility that Fenrir was fully aware of Greyson, but they had been careful. Other than her accidentally slipping and saying that she had a boyfriend at all, it wasn't like she said who it was. The only thing that Emma could think of was someone saying something about her being with Greyson in Hogsmeade, but she was under the impression people didn't know who he was. Fenrir couldn't be referring to Greyson, could he? Was there something else that she was forgetting? Emma wasn't sure what she had said in the past month.

"I'm not sure?" Emma's answer was careful, and she tried to run through everything she had written to Fenrir in a letter. She kept her responses short and sweet, giving him updates on her classes, not elaborating on more than she needed to. Emma made sure to keep her responses as vague as possible, so it didn't seem like he would be questioning something from one of her letters.

Fenrir was still quiet, which was never a good sign in Emma's book. For him to be studying her so much was worrisome. He was doing the same thing she was and looking to see if she was lying. It was to Emma's benefit that she genuinely had no idea what he could be referring to.

"You've said absolutely nothing about your boyfriend," Fenrir finally said.

 _Shit_ , Emma thought to herself. Whoever Fenrir's source was had told him at least that much, and she definitely didn't write that in any letters. She cursed herself for that accidental slip, and she suddenly worried that what she said to Alexi had gotten back to Fenrir already. Luckily it was never spoken of again after that day, but she didn't know what the Durmstrang students talked about.

 _But that doesn't mean he knows all_ , Soleil reminded Emma. _He doesn't know that you are with the young one._ Soleil had a point.

"There's not much to say," Emma countered. "Wasn't aware that I had to tell you every single part of my life. I was very much under the impression that I still have relative freedom as we have yet to discuss anything further."

Fenrir grunted in response, rubbing his beard as he kept his gaze fixed on Emma. "I suppose that you're correct," he finally shrugged. "However, I would think you would tell me at least that much."

"Again, there's not much to say."

"I've been told that he's not a Hogwarts student," Fenrir said slowly. "And this information came out before the other two schools arrived."

"And your point?"

"I find that curious…"

"Why is that curious?"

"Well, that would lead me to believe that he's older. Why else would he not be a student?"

"He could be homeschooled," Emma replied.

"No, I don't think so," Fenrir said, shaking his head. "You see, I've had a long time to think about it, and you've known this _boy_ for a while."

"How long is a while, Fen? You can say that I've known anyone for a while. That's not very clear."

"This boy is the reason why you waited until the very last minute to come home from Diagon Alley, isn't it?" Fenrir asked after a long pause. "You were very careful with how you answered my questions that night, but there was something…off…about you."

 _I'm not convinced that he doesn't know,_ Emma thought as her eyes narrowed. Fenrir already knew too much from whatever source he had if he knew that she wasn't with a student. She was hoping that Soleil's response would be faster, but even she was cowed. The one time Emma needed the wolfish side of her to respond, and the wolf was silent.

 _Give him the answer he's looking for,_ Soleil finally said. _You cannot deny that truth as he has already figured out that's where you met him there._

 _Greyson ran into me in Diagon Alley,_ Emma was quick to add. _Don't you recall Dad mentioning that his scent was just different enough? Any werewolf would recognize him for who he is._

_As long as you don't confirm his identity, then Fenrir cannot find fault. As far as he knows, you could have met anyone that day. Fenrir's scent on your skin would fade just enough that it could be logical that it was still his from that morning. Worst case scenario, you claim that you had no idea who he was._

_Except he looks like Fenrir,_ Emma thought pointedly. _Anyone who knows Fenrir would be able to recognize that much in Greyson._

 _Then we lie. Tell him what he wants to hear_ , Soleil replied.

"Caught me," Emma shrugged with a long sigh. "Only talked to him for a few minutes, though. I genuinely wasn't ready to head back to the house, and I convinced Persephone to wait. It was the first moment of real freedom away from everyone, and I wanted to take advantage of it. Surely you can't blame me for wanting such a thing when I spent nearly the entire summer cooped up in one building or another."

"And he's your boyfriend? Seems odd to talk to someone for only a few minutes and then finally find yourself in a relationship, no?"

"No one ever said it was the only time I saw him."

"Interesting," Fenrir said slowly, lifting his glass to his lips.

"What's interesting?" Emma asked. "Just last month, you were all for the idea of me sleeping with someone. Now that he's my boyfriend, it's all of a sudden a problem?"

"Oh, no. No, no, no, it's not the fact you have a boyfriend that's the problem," Fenrir said, his gaze darkening slightly.

"Then what's the problem?" Emma asked, trying to keep herself from making herself appear more nervous than she was.

"The problem is that I have a theory," Fenrir replied, his tone deceptively level. "You see, I find it odd that you have never brought this boy up to me, and I had to hear this information from someone else. You have had many opportunities to bring him up, but you have chosen to keep that information to yourself. Normally, I wouldn't be too bothered – after all, we already had the discussion of you being with someone else. I'm not interested in the idea of having to do that much work myself, so it hasn't been my concern what you do. I didn't really give a shit, but then I started to think of every reason why you wouldn't want me to know who he is. After all, we've had the discussion that it's better for me to hear things directly from you and not from a third party…"

"There's not much to say," Emma repeated. "We've only been together for a month."

"I would be more likely to believe that if I didn't know what sort of shit you were getting up to at the beginning of term. I know you well enough to know that you're not the type of girl who will sleep with just anyone."

"You're right. I'm not."

"And that's what makes the entire thing even more curious. I thought my theory was very unlikely; after all – what are the chances of me being correct? It would make things complicated, if I'm correct. And I confess, I have my suspicions."

"Well, that's all they are, Fen," Emma challenged. "Theories and suspicions. I'm not telling you when it's none of your concern right now. Until I'm actually in the pack, I'm free to do whatever I please. You don't need to know absolutely every little thing I do or who I'm with. If I tell you, then I tell you. If not, then you'll just have to deal with it, won't you?"

Fenrir's gaze darkened further, and Emma sat back in her chair as Fenrir leaned forward towards her once more. If he wasn't going to mention who he thought it was, she certainly wasn't going to tell him, but her stomach was twisting. He knew far too much, and that wasn't good.

"But none of this is what we're here to discuss, Fenrir," Emma said icily when Fenrir didn't say a word. She genuinely couldn't understand how Fenrir turned conversations around so quickly and put them in such dangerous territory. Emma reached over for her glass to take a drink of Firewhiskey, desperate for some form of liquid courage. "Today is about negotiating, and this isn't part of it." She looked back over at Jude and Ellis, who had their heads close together. "I certainly wasn't expecting those two, and I've got questions about them, but those can wait. For now. I would like to just be finished with _this_ part of things so I can move along with my life."

Fenrir's displeasure was evident in the way his lips started to pull back with a growl, but he quickly tamped it down. He knew Emma well enough that she wouldn't be likely to agree to anything if he was confrontational.

"I hope for your sake…and his…that I'm wrong," Fenrir said, fixing Emma with a hard stare. "However, you're lucky, and I find myself with an added task to take care of –" Fenrir looked over at Jude and Ellis pointedly "– and so I'll have to cut things short and can't get the answer out of you today. So, best get on with it then, Rabbit."

Emma resisted the urge to let out the breath she was holding and nodded. She didn't like that Fenrir called her Rabbit, but it was better than him jumping straight to Soleil. Then again, she wasn't sure if Fenrir ever would since he hated the name and seemed to avoid it like the plague.

"Right," Emma said, taking another sip of Firewhiskey and setting down the glass. She was unsettled by Fenrir's line of questioning, but she couldn't let that make her lose sight of what she was trying to do. "I was doing a lot of thinking, and I realized that I need your help at this point. I know what you want from me, and I think what I have to say you'll enjoy, but I figured it would be best to start broad before getting into details."

"You need my help?" Fenrir asked, looking only marginally interested.

Emma nodded, glancing over at Jude and Ellis once more. "I need to go home, and you know that just as much as I do," Emma said pointedly. "But again, I'd like to start in a more general sense of things before getting into that." Fenrir gestured for Emma to continue, and she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.

"I want my freedom," Emma said simply. "Now and after I leave school. You already have my loyalty, but I want to be able to make a name for myself that doesn't involve you."

"You have your freedom," Fenrir said slowly. "You've always had your freedom. In fact – you have more freedom now than you did a few months ago because you made the right decision."

"But you know what I mean, Fen. I need a life outside of you."

Fenrir frowned, his head tilting slightly with his confusion. "And what makes you think that you need a life outside of me? I'll more than provide for you."

"The things we want are similar and very different," Emma replied. "We've known that for months. Your views are far more extremist than mine are. Which, I suppose, leads into my next condition – I want this to be a partnership. I want you to see me as my equal so that we can find a middle ground. You're not the only one who wants better lives for werewolves, but I don't think your approach helps things."

"It allows me to care for my pack."

"Yes, but you're also ignoring the current legislation. Just because you're willing to go to the extremes, it doesn't mean everyone is. If you tone things down, it would make things easier."

"And what do I get out of it if I say yes?"

"Me, obviously," Emma said.

"That was already a given. You're _mine_."

"Me being _willing_ ," Emma corrected. Fenrir's brow twitched upward at the idea of Emma being willing, and she sighed. "I'm aware that I can't do the things that I want to on my own. Dad has every bit of faith in me and what I want to do, but it's going to be difficult. I'm starting to see the appeal in the idea of others being strongarmed into doing what needs to be done."

"And why can't you do that yourself?"

"Because I am practically half your size," Emma said pointedly. "Not exactly the most terrifying thing in the world, am I? I'm unintentionally giving myself a reputation, but it's not the same as yours. People hear your name, and they know what they're getting into – you're bloody terrifying. I'm not."

"So you're using me for intimidation?"

"Yes and no. I'm asking for you to be willing to work with me on things. There are key components to current laws that need to be changed – half of which are because of _you_ , might I add. The stigma over werewolves already existed, but I would like to change that. You absolutely do not help that cause."

"And you're aware that when the Dark Lord returns, that's all going to change again?"

"Dark Lord or not, someone needs to be willing to be an advocate. We have two completely different approaches to how we deal with things."

"And you _really_ think that you can change things?"

"Yes," Emma said earnestly. "Realistically, how many people have tried? Considering the research I've done regarding the Ministry, it doesn't seem like anyone cares. Werewolf support services has jumped from between the Being department to Beast several times over the past few years, and it's run by whoever is needed at the time. Really, it deserves its own dedicated department as werewolves are complicated. It's not like every werewolf is in a pack."

"Though they should be."

"But that's not the life every werewolf wants, Fen. That's the point. I have ideas – hundreds of different ideas of what can be changed. You've sat and told me that you're not the monster everyone makes you out to be, then why don't you prove it?"

"My methods are fine, and I enjoy the reputation I have."

 _Of course, you do_ , Emma thought bitterly to herself. She knew it was going to be too much to dare ask Fenrir to help her with something of the sort.

"Then let _me_ do it," Emma said.

Fenrir shifted in his seat, tapping the table with his clawed fingers as he considered what Emma had said. His gaze was fixed on hers, and Emma struggled to maintain eye contact. She knew that she was issuing a challenge by not looking away, but if she looked away, she felt she would lose the possibility of being equal.

"I already agreed to a partnership, of sorts, a few months ago," Fenrir finally said. "However, considering the current climate, I cannot reasonably give an answer to your 'desire for freedom.'"

"Why not? I think it's a reasonable request."

"Currently, yes. And you have it. However, the moment things change, we will have to discuss further," Fenrir replied, gesturing vaguely. "If I cannot guarantee your safety, I will not agree to more than what you currently have. As long as you are in the castle, or with your father or with me, I can feel confident in letting you out in the world."

"So you worry about me?"

"I take care of what's mine, and _you_ are _mine_. I kept you alive as long as I have, and other than that brief little stunt you pulled, I plan to keep you that way," Fenrir said simply, looking over at Jude. "Unfortunately, that idiot over there is still a cause for concern. Someone hasn't figured out stop sticking his nose where it doesn't belong."

"And do you plan to take care of that situation?"

Fenrir only shrugged in response. "Depends on what you have to say."

Emma took a deep breath to try and nodded. It was the sort of answer that she expected from Fenrir. "Then it's a yes to a partnership and equality, and to be decided on me having freedom?"

"Yes to a partnership, but you will have to work for equality. As I said before, you're not automatically going to be given absolutely everything. I would grant it, but that's not how things work in the pack. It's not just me that you have to prove things to – if you want equality, you're working for it and proving that you're worthy of it. You seem to have an aversion to the word 'mate,' so partners will have to do until you figure out the difference yourself.

"You already have your freedom, but we will discuss anything further than what you have now when the time comes. I'd prefer to know where you are at all times while certain situations are taken care of. It's just these trips into Hogsmeade are complicated."

"Why are they complicated?"

"Because they pull me from where I need to be as I have to make sure that you're kept safe as I can't trust the bastard. And as your father apparently will not be here today…"

"Well, I was thinking about that," Emma said, worrying her lip between her teeth. "I was actually wondering if you would bring Boris with you sometimes. I know Boris isn't you, but…"

Emma knew it was a risk to bring up the idea of having Boris in the village at all, but she was playing the long game with Fenrir. If she was going to destroy what Fenrir built, she would have to do it slowly, and Boris was one of the first steps.

She remembered the way Boris's face lit up when she let him use her wand and got to experience a different type of magic. A werewolf could do plenty of magic, but Boris's magic was still untamed if his attempt at lighting her wand was anything to go by. She wanted the children in the pack to be educated, to be more than what Fenrir was allowing them to be. Fenrir saw potential, but he didn't entirely look at the bigger picture. If Boris got a taste of what the wizarding world was like, despite the prejudices that he scoffed at, then perhaps she could have help. He knew of the Muggle world, but anything magical was still new to him. She could start with Boris and then Ducky, but Ducky would be a little worrisome with his rambunctious energy.

"Why?" Fenrir questioned, his expression skeptical.

"I miss him," Emma said. It wasn't a lie – she did genuinely miss Boris, but she definitely had a motive. "I thought it would be nice to spend time with him, and as I'm currently left to following school policy, it's easier for you to bring him. Besides, wouldn't it be good to have another wolf that can blend in with the magical community? He would be with me, and he listens to me so I can make sure nothing happens."

Fenrir still looked doubtful. "Let me think about it," he said after a pause. "I'm sure that there is more that you're looking for?"

"I want a guarantee that I won't be turned until I'm done with school," Emma said firmly. "I know you said that you would wait and that you were trying to think of a solution, but I want to be done with my education. Having to worry about transforming, especially while I currently plan to take an almost full course load for my N.E.W.T.S. is complicated."

"No," Fenrir said. "Your father did it, and so can you. I will give you until you're seventeen with the guarantee. After that, it's my decision. If you plan to serve at my side, especially as an alpha, I am not risking the safety of you or my pack. Just because you smell like a wolf, it doesn't guarantee every wolf will see you that way during the moon."

Emma pursed her lips at the very thought. She hadn't thought about things from that angle, and it was regrettable that it made a lot of sense. Her safety from Moony without the potion came from the familiarity of her being his child, and Fenrir hadn't been around her without the Wolfsbane Potion. Emma was sure that Fenrir would step in if he had to, and it would be an excellent contingency plan, but she didn't want to bring harm to the others.

"Fine," Emma said. "I would much rather finish my schooling. Can we agree to seventeen and discuss again at that time?"

"I suppose I can agree to discuss things again when you're seventeen. That's when you can leave school, after all."

"I have a question about that," Emma said slowly. "About…turning me."

"And what would it be?"

"Does it _have_ to be you?" Emma asked. Fenrir looked taken aback at the very idea that she wouldn't want it to be him turning her, but Emma couldn't stand the idea. "You've already bitten me twice technically. I would rather not have a third from you…it's bloody painful."

"And another wolf would be…less painful?"

"You would enjoy it too much. Can't it be…almost clinical?"

"Let me tell you something – no matter who it is, it's going to be painful," Fenrir said darkly. "Every part of you is going to feel like it's on fire. I know you've mentioned feeling it before, but it will be at least twenty times worse. You are going to be practically begging for death just to make the pain stop as your entire being prepares itself for the sheer power you'll be given. You might be a little luckier than most as you're already a wolf –"

"But I'm not a –"

"But you _are_ ," Fenrir said sharply. "Has it never occurred to you that there's a reason why Soleil exists at all? Why your magic is just that much more potent? You say you don't have the heightened senses, but has it never crossed your mind that there's a possibility that you do even in a limited capacity? Or that the changes have been so subtle that you've had more of an opportunity to get used to them versus all at once?"

Emma stared hard at Fenrir, trying to piece together what he was telling her. Soleil's existence was always a concern, but they had all just accepted it as a side effect. She was infected with lycanthropy, but they never considered her more than half as she didn't transform, but were they wrong?

She had picked up on her magic being a little more finicky than before, more prone to overdoing spells now than her first year. But her senses? She couldn't think of anything that could stand out in her mind and confirm the claim that her senses were heightened at all. Emma definitely couldn't see well in the dark, definitely couldn't hear or smell things the same way as a werewolf. At least she didn't think that was a possibility, and as Emma gave an indignant sniff, she felt that she was the one who was right and not Fenrir. She was utterly unremarkable when it came to her senses.

"So what are you telling me?" Emma asked.

"That you're far more wolf than you think you are," Fenrir said. "Just like I've been telling you, and Soleil is proof of that. All it takes is one bite to unlock everything that you're capable of, and I don't believe it would be nearly as painful for you. I believe you would have gone through the worst of it without knowing."

"But it will still be painful."

"There's no getting around it, but the pain eventually fades," Fenrir admitted. "I thought you trusted me?"

"I do," Emma said. _Partially, but not really_ , Emma thought to herself to Soleil's barking little laugh of amusement. "But I don't want it to be you."

"Well, your father clearly has no intention of doing you the favor," Fenrir shrugged. "But do you really want someone else to be the one to do it? You're asking for something 'clinical,' and who better than I to do such a thing? At least I can promise you a clean bite provided you can keep yourself still long enough to let it happen."

Fenrir was really just destroying every single one of her ideas so far as he once again had a fair point. If Remus wasn't willing, at the very least, she could trust Fenrir to do as he said. If he promised her a clean bite, he would be giving her as close to a clinical situation as possible. The bite on her arm only looked the way it did because she had moved, and if she could somehow keep still, it would be fine. It was a means to an end, but the issue was the idea of him possibly having total control over her as alpha. Just because Remus technically was her sire, it didn't mean that Fenrir couldn't force Emma into obedience, and that's what they were looking to avoid. She still wasn't sure that she wanted to be turned at all; it was only during the worst of the full that she ever considered it.

"What about another alpha, then?" Emma questioned. "I think Elle said that she was one of Balin's turns."

"But that was before Balin took over his own pack. I wouldn't dare let another alpha get anywhere near you to turn you. You have limited choices if it were to be someone else. The only one I would _possibly_ consider is Eirwyn, but I wouldn't dare follow through on such a thing."

 _Thwarted again_. Fenrir wasn't going to budge, which left Emma with very few choices, especially with everything going on. Elara would be the next possibility after her father, but even she was hesitant of the idea. She would do it if she had to but considering everything…Emma couldn't think about it right then. She would get to that at some point.

"Fine," Emma said reluctantly. She paled at the victorious smirk on Fenrir's face and reached for her glass of Firewhiskey. She was not doing too well at all. "There isn't much else that I really want, not in the general sense. I just don't want to be kept away from my family, and I want them and whoever I consider close to be safe. You are not to bring harm to them."

"Your fathers were already a given. I thought you understood that," Fenrir replied.

"I just want the guarantee that you will not hurt either of them and that they'll be given the same protection, too," Emma said. "And I would prefer the others be brought into that arrangement. I think that's a reasonable request, no? I don't want to lose what I have."

"Hm, but that would involve you giving me names," Fenrir said, an eyebrow arching. "And something tells me that you would be rather hesitant to do such a thing. I can really only guarantee your safety and say that I can do my best for the others."

Emma shifted in her seat, pulling her gaze away from Fenrir's just long enough to find that his expression was unreadable when she looked up once more. She had no desire to give names, and she feared the conversation would return to dangerous territory.

"I can't give names today," Emma said slowly. "But I have a feeling your source has told you everything you need to know already. You already know the names of the people I want to be kept safe."

Fenrir's lips pressed into a thin line, and he settled himself back in his chair. "You get _three_ names outside of the obvious," he said. "No more than that. I will give you until the Easter holiday to give me your names. I suggest you choose wisely."

Emma nodded in agreement. She would've preferred more than three names, but three people being safe was better than nothing. That and it gave her more than enough time to figure out things a little further.

"And what do you want?" Emma asked quietly.

"The same as before," Fenrir said simply. "I want to own every single part of you and to build something more powerful than even the Dark Lord."

"You calling Voldemort the Dark Lord is bloody weird," Emma grumbled. "Is that still all you want?"

"More or less, but it's all up for discussion as time moves on. I've been patient long enough. I suppose I can wait a few more years to fully bring you into the pack as long as we keep certain arrangements."

Emma groaned, rubbing her hands over her face. At least Fenrir didn't change what he wanted from her, but was she entirely willing to say what she was about to? She looked over at Jude and Ellis, who were still talking, and Emma wished she knew what they were saying. Whatever it was, it was enough that Fenrir felt the need to step in, but that didn't mean it was about her. She didn't think they would be so stupid that they would discuss everything within hearing distance of Fenrir.

"I don't agree to you owning every part of me in the sense that you expect it, but what if I said there was a way I'd be more willing? Perhaps a bit more than willing to possibly accept the idea a little easier?"

Fenrir's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and Emma knew his curiosity was piqued. Emma pulled her lower lip between her teeth, suddenly regretting the words that were going to come out of her mouth. She had no idea what it said about her that she was willing to stoop so low, but she wasn't sure that there were any other possibilities. Emma needed guarantees, and Fenrir had very few limits.

"Go on," he said slowly, nursing the rest of his Firewhiskey.

Emma took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"I would be willing to…drop everything and join you completely if you do several things for me," Emma said slowly, cringing as the words left her mouth. She was never going to be able to take this one back. "All I ask is that we keep the discussion of my relative freedom open and that I'm never separated from my family. Really, I would like to keep an open dialogue with everything, but I understand that you won't guarantee that you'll say yes to all of my requests. After all, you're…you're the alpha until you decide I can be on an equal footing with you as an alpha as well."

"Continue," Fenrir said, keeping his tone careful, level. Not quite skeptical and not quite hopeful – just level.

"I'd like to think that I don't ask for much," Emma said. "And if you were to do all of these things for me, then I would have no choice to join you for doing such massive favors. You already know I want to go home where I belong, so I hope that I don't have to include that in what I say next." Fenrir gave a slight shrug of agreement, and Emma relaxed a little. At least he was giving her that much. "Thank you," she said quietly. "For that much, at least."

"It's fucking stupid what they're doing," Fenrir said. "You're just lucky that you and your father are…a special case to me. I wouldn't do such a thing for just anyone."

"All the same, thank you," Emma said, glancing over at Jude. "I doubt I need to remind you of what I said over the summer regarding that situation. I want happiness, and that's a huge hindrance to that."

"I'm surprised," Fenrir said. "You're truly willing to have innocent blood on your hands?"

"Well, we all know he's not so innocent," Emma said darkly. She tried to ignore the pleased twitch of Fenrir's lips and the way his smile practically reached his eyes. He _liked_ this version of Emma, but she hated it. At least whatever she said within the Hog's Head would be kept to the Hog's Head with how far away they were from everyone else. Her questionable request could be left between the two of them. "And it's not on mine; it's on yours. Or your paws. Whichever. I can't say I'm too fussed as long as I'm not the one doing it."

"You don't want to do it yourself? For what he's done?"

"I don't want to be the direct cause," Emma said. "And I have a feeling you would get no greater joy after what you've said about him. I just don't understand why you haven't done it already."

"Because he's fun to fuck with. And very easy to fuck with."

"So you play with your food?" Emma questioned.

"Something like that," Fenrir chuckled. "But go on, I'm curious to hear what else you have to say."

"I need the rat."

"The rat?"

"Pettigrew," Emma said. "I want the rat so that Sirius can be free. I don't like that Sirius is always on the run and the only way he will be free is if there's proof."

"So you want me to take the Dark Lord's second most loyal servant in exchange for setting the dog free?"

"Second most loyal? There's a first?" Fenrir only smirked in response, and Emma nearly growled at him in annoyance. "Yes, that's exactly what I want," Emma said. "I want my family together, and even though I'm a Black, I think it's been voiced by everyone that we're keeping that a secret. None of us have any trust in the Ministry if they're still willing to hand me over to Jude after using the Cruciatus on me. And I don't need to somehow be thrown in Azkaban just for my bloody name."

"So you'll let me risk myself?"

"And how many times have they tried to put you in Azkaban?"

Fenrir's smirk turned into a smug smile, and he chuckled. "I suppose I could go for another round at some point. It's been a while, and I'm getting bored."

"My God, Fenrir," Emma scoffed. "Do you consider it some sort of game to get caught?"

"Something like that," Fenrir shrugged, his smile widening. "It's always fun to –"

"Okay, Fen, I don't need to know," Emma said quickly. She was regretting everything more and more. "I would rather not know."

"One day, you'll enjoy things the same way I do," he said with a sigh. "Is that all?"

"No, and I doubt I'll enjoy things the way you do," Emma replied with disgust. "I'm not sure how this one will work, but I have a particular request outside of my fathers being kept safe."

"And what's that?"

"I can't lose Elle," Emma said quietly.

"Interesting," Fenrir said slowly. "I wondered if you would ever come to me on Elara's behalf."

"She's family," Emma said tightly. "And I had a feeling that Dad was coming to you to ask the same thing of you last month, and that's why neither of you wanted to tell me. Knowing him, I know he was self-sacrificing, but I feel like I'm offering far more."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Because I'm offering myself in my entirety if you do everything I ask."

"It's conditional."

"Isn't our entire arrangement conditional? But that's why we were approaching things as partners. You need me just as much as I need you, and if you want to keep me happy, then these are the things I ask of you. With a few more requests, of course."

"You have a lot of conditions, little one."

"I'm just trying to have all of my bases covered if I'm giving myself to you," Emma said.

"Very well, then," Fenrir said, gesturing for Emma to continue. "Let's hear them."

"I ask that everything we've agreed to remains and isn't altered further until I'm seventeen, as discussed. I ask that you answer the questions that I have – not today, of course, but at some point. And I ask that my name is kept out of all of this," Emma said slowly. "I'm sure that you expect to still…do whatever this is at your request, so I wouldn't dare try to argue it. I'll admit that I don't mind it when you're not threatening to kill me every few minutes, and I would still like to learn how to work with Soleil. If you're still telling me that I'm more wolf, then perhaps it's time I truly learn what that actually means. Clearly, you have more experience in teaching others such a thing, and I trust you to show me what I need to know."

She took a deep breath and lifted her glass to finish what was left of her Firewhiskey. It was risky to even bring up her next condition, but she wasn't taking chances with Fenrir. He had absolutely no proof that Emma was with Greyson, and he wasn't going to dare voice his thoughts. Emma had no doubt that Fenrir knew precisely who she was with, but he would wait to confront her until he had proof. Emma wasn't stupid enough to admit to it on her own.

"But I have one final request, and my request is that you don't dare harm whoever I'm with," Emma added. "They don't deserve to be brought into whatever we have. I consider them just as much family as the others."

Fenrir's expression was unreadable once more, and Emma most definitely stopped breathing. His gaze was searching, his head tilting ever so slightly as he studied her. Emma didn't think he expected her to make such a request, and hopefully it threw Fenrir off just enough to think he was wrong.

"And wouldn't he be involved just by knowing you?" Fenrir asked slowly, running his tongue over his teeth in his aggravation. "I think the time for keeping them out of this has long since passed."

"Which is why I'm covering all of my bases, Fen. I think in the grand scheme of things, I'm not asking for much. I'm giving you what you want, provided you're willing to work with me."

Emma held her breath, already anticipating Fenrir to say no. She knew the things she was asking for were somewhat outlandish, but they were reasonable when it came to Fenrir. He was thinking and thinking hard, his arms crossed over his chest and his thumb running over his lower lip.

Did Emma plan to uphold her end of the deal? Not really, but Fenrir didn't know that part just yet. For the most part, she was honest, but he still appeared doubtful of her claims. She just needed Fenrir to agree to what she asked and, then the rest of her plan could be set in motion. As long as she could guarantee that everyone was kept safe, then she would figure things out as they came up.

She slowly lost hope when Fenrir didn't make any motions to agree to her newest conditions. Fenrir looked over her head towards the clock near the bar and hummed thoughtfully to himself. He stared at the clock for a long moment, rubbing his jaw, and then suddenly, his gaze was back on Emma's, his eyes boring into hers. When he finally held his hand out, Emma thought she might fall out of her chair in surprise. She wasn't expecting him to agree to anything at all, and Emma's eyes darted between his hand and his face.

"Well?" Fenrir prompted, eyebrow arching when Emma wasn't moving. She looked between his hand and his face once more, her brow furrowing. Not wanting to tempt fate, Emma finally took his hand. Emma let out a gasp of surprise when she suddenly felt herself being tugged out of her chair and forced onto her feet. The Butterbeer bottle nearly toppled off the table as Emma tried to keep herself upright. Fenrir leaned in closer to her, pulling her a little lower over the table so their noses were practically touching. His stare was steady, and his lips curled back to bare the faintest sliver of his teeth. "You had better hope that I'm wrong about my theory. You know damn well that I can find out quickly, Emma. If there's anything you need to tell me, I suggest doing it now."

"There's nothing I need to tell you," Emma said, setting her jaw defiantly. Even Soleil was aggravated by Fenrir's sudden switch, but they should have expected it.

"Hmm," Fenrir said slowly. "Well, I certainly hope not," he said, lifting his other hand to stroke her cheek with a twisted grin. "You wouldn't dare think of lying to me, would you, Emma? I would hope that you know better than to insult my intelligence in such a way."

"Of course not, Fen," Emma said, forcing a smile on her face. "I know better than that."

"Smart girl," Fenrir said tightly, letting go of Emma's hand. Emma shot Fenrir a glare as she straightened up. He reached into his coat and pulled out a few Galleons, and he held them out for her to take. "Get out of my sight and get yourself something to eat at the Three Broomsticks and treat yourself before I change my mind. You're practically skin and bone."

"Thanks," Emma muttered. She dropped the Galleons into her coat pocket and pulled her coat closer around her body. Not wanting to test Fenrir further, Emma made her way over to the bar to retrieve her things. She cast Jude one final disgusted look and made sure to give him a particular rude hand gesture before rushing out to the high street. Emma didn't stop moving until she felt that she was far enough away from the Hog's Head, and she leaned heavily against one of the shop buildings.

Emma had no idea how things had somehow gotten even more complicated than before, but at least she finally knew one thing. There was no doubt in Emma's mind that Fenrir knew about Greyson, but that made things that much more difficult. Fenrir couldn't know about them being together. If he did, Emma didn't want to know what he would do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was **not** supposed to be as long as it is. Fenrir, as per usual, just ruins my word count. Soooo...I have a lot of things I can possibly say here, but I'm super curious to know what everyone else has to say. One particular chapter of Emma's relationship with Fenrir has closed, but a new chapter has opened.
> 
> A lot has happened here. Was it good? Possibly. Was it bad? Well.... Do we think Fenrir is going to keep to the deal? HEH. Does Fenrir knowwww about Emma being with Greyson? Or is he bluffing to get her to talk? Heheheheheheheh.
> 
> I feel evil. I'm not sorry.
> 
> To all of my late night readers - thank you, I love you, and good night! To all of my other time readers, I love you and have a good day~ :D


	50. A Full Moon Reality

Emma was not her father. Or at least that's what she tried to tell herself as she paced tirelessly, relentlessly back and forth along the length of the hospital wing. She silently cursed herself as she walked swiftly from one end of the room to the other, impatient and restless. It was impossible for her to slow down, and she felt as though she had not stopped moving in days. Emma was a ceaseless bundle of bottled-up nerves with nothing to put her energy into except the ever-growing pull of the moon and her thoughts. Even worse, she had an audience.

To Emma's aggravation, the night after the Hogsmeade trip, she received a letter from Fenrir telling her to work with Newt. After their back-and-forth letters discussing the idea, it seemed odd that Fenrir would decide it was worth pursuing. She wanted to question Fenrir why the sudden change but then remembered he would talk to Jude and Ellis to figure out what they were doing.

Rather than question it, Emma met with Professor McGonagall the next morning, had a meeting with Dumbledore, and plans were made. Emma couldn't say that she was too pleased with what she would have to do, but Fenrir wouldn't have changed his mind for no reason. Additional assistance was clearly needed, but Emma wished she knew why.

Newt arrived that Wednesday morning, and Emma felt like an animal in a zoo. He was quiet and followed her to each of her classes to observe and take notes. It was awkward to have some students fawning over Newt, and others have absolutely no idea who he was. It was even more embarrassing to have him trailing behind her like a shadow with no explanation. All of her professors were informed of the arrangement over the next few days, but it didn't make things any easier. Emma was tired of being a spectacle, and it was just one more thing that would come up when people talked about her. The only thing that made it bearable was knowing that Remus would spend two out of three nights in the castle.

Emma waited very impatiently in one of the rooms that were near Dumbledore's office. It would be frowned upon if people knew that Remus was spending the night in the castle near the full moon, but he was needed. She felt strange sitting in a room with Newt as he continued to write in his journal. Emma had no idea what he was writing, but all thoughts of what Newt was doing were washed away when Remus entered the room.

Remus had to brace himself to keep himself from falling from Emma's running leap into his arms. She was more than happy to be with her father for the night, needing him in the roughest parts of the week before the full. However, she wasn't looking forward to having to explain what exactly happened with Fenrir. Remus decided that it would be best to wait to have the conversation in person, but with him finally there, Emma wasn't ready.

"He didn't really agree to much," Emma said quietly, casting a glance over at Newt as they sat down on one of the couches. Newt said to just interact with each other as they normally did, but it still felt odd. It was even weirder for Remus to greet Newt shyly as if they were old friends who just hadn't spoken in years. Knowing how much time Newt spent with the family, Emma wondered if, in a way, that was true. Remus didn't tell Emma much about it after asking him, but he generally avoided talking about the time after his bite.

After her harrowing twenty-four hours over the summer, Emma understood why her father didn't speak much about it. She chose to ignore everything that happened and tucked it far in the back of her mind. It changed nothing, but at least she didn't think about it.

"Newt won't say a word to anyone about what we talk about," Remus said. "Just tell me what happened so I can start to figure out what our next moves should be."

Emma begrudgingly told Remus everything that she had discussed with Fenrir. He grew paler and paler with each new thing and was ghostly white by the end. Remus looked as though he wanted to comment on the things that she had asked of Fenrir but chose not to. The only thing that Emma didn't bring up was the possibility of Fenrir knowing about Greyson. She needed everything else to settle in Remus's mind before adding that bit of information.

"Did he make any threats this time?" Remus asked. He hummed thoughtfully to himself before kicking his legs up onto the couch and tugging Emma into his arms to snuggle.

"That's the problem," Emma muttered, getting herself comfortable. "He didn't, but he did at the same time. He knows too much."

"What do you mean?"

"I think Fenrir already knows I'm with Greyson," Emma whispered, lifting her head to meet Remus's stunned gaze.

"How?" Remus asked.

"He said that he has a different source," Emma replied. "I made the mistake of mentioning that I have a boyfriend before the other schools showed up here. Whoever his source is knows that much, and Fenrir's very aware that it's not a student."

"Persephone?"

"No, he said it was someone different. Fenrir said he hasn't gone through Persephone in weeks because his new source tells him more," Emma said, sucking in a deep breath. "And Fenrir mentioned that he felt I was off after going to Diagon Alley with Persephone."

Remus's lips pressed into a thin line, and he pulled Emma's head down to his shoulder and stroked her hair.

"He's started putting the pieces together, then," Remus said quietly. "Which makes things more complicated."

Emma nodded. "The thing is, is I don't believe Fenrir was planning to ever do anything to Greyson in the first place," Emma said with a yawn. "If he planned to do something to Greyson, he would have done something sooner. Either way, he's still unsure because he has no proof."

"Well, we both know that means he's going to start looking for proof," Remus sighed. "At this point, it's not a matter of if he finds out; it's a matter of when."

"I think so," Emma said quietly.

"And I think it's safe to assume that his threats were based on him finding out the truth from someone else?"

"Yep."

Remus continued to stroke Emma's hair and let out a drawn-out, "Fuck."

"Yep," Emma answered in response.

"All right," Remus said after some time has passed. "For the most part, it sounds as though you made sure to get him to agree to not doing anything rash. If there's one thing we can trust Fenrir to do, it's to keep to his deals – especially one just made."

"But he changed whatever deal he had with the others when it came to me," Emma said nervously.

"They also collectively went against whatever deal was made in the first place. That was three different parties that went against what he knew, but he's dealing with you this time," Remus said. He let out a long breath, pulling Emma a little closer. "From what we understand and what we know now, Fenrir isn't going to be as willing to hurt you. You're unfortunately the key to whatever it is he's looking for, and if he loses you, then he's in trouble. That means everyone else you consider close should be safe, and it sounds as though you were careful to add those provisions in. I'm not particularly fond of…your final ideas, but that can't be taken back now. Not so soon, at least. All we can hope is that he'll draw things out as long as possible."

"I don't want him to drag it out, though," Emma muttered. "Not everything."

"If he draws anything out, it'll be with Jude," Remus sighed. "Fenrir will string Jude along for as long as he finds amusement. There's just no telling how long that'll be."

Emma's face twisted at the idea of Jude being around longer than she wanted, and she pressed her face into Remus's chest. She could tell that he wanted to say more but was choosing not to. Emma wasn't sure she could handle what Remus really had to say and was grateful when he only wrapped his arms tighter around her and kissed the top of her head.

"The only thing we can do at this point is continue what we've been doing," Remus said softly. "He's going to find out one way or another. Unless Fenrir brings Greyson up by name, you are not to say a word. It's risky, but right now, it sounds like you two have some sort of immunity."

"I have to break up with him," Emma murmured, shaking her head. "I can't…he doesn't deserve to be brought into this."

"Fy nghariad – don't," Remus said, his tone firm. "I went through this with Papa when I was only a few years older than you. I think, per Greyson's letters, he wouldn't stand for the idea of you wanting to end things because of this. I know that you're scared, we all are, but you are allowed to be happy, too."

"You like him, then?" Emma questioned, her lips lifting into a smile at Remus's exaggerated sigh.

"I suppose I can admit that I understand why you like him so much. I still don't like that he's older than you, but I suppose it could be far worse," Remus said, kissing the top of her head once more. "Rest, sweetheart," he added when Emma yawned. "I've got you now."

Thursday went about the same as Wednesday, but Emma was much snappier than she usually was just before the full moon. If anyone dared look at her the wrong way, Emma quickly commented on it, not caring how she sounded. She had even made an aggravated comment in Newt's direction in the middle of Potions, much to her classmates' alarm. Emma felt as though he was staring at her a bit too much, and she felt the need to comment on it.

"Emma!" Anthony said sharply, looking between Emma and Newt in shock. Daring to be rude to Newt Scamander around the pure-bloods was like talking down to a childhood hero. "That's _Newt Scamander_!"

"I know," Emma shrugged. "I'm very aware."

"I suggest apologizing to Mr. Scamander," Snape drawled as he walked through the classroom inspecting their work. "I hardly doubt your affliction is an excuse for your exceptionally rude behavior."

Emma was about to make a choice comment in Snape's direction, but Newt was surprisingly quick to step in.

"Severus, with all due respect, I'm here to observe Emma as she is normally," Newt said, his eyes not quite meeting Snape's sharp gaze. "This report is critical, and I would rather keep it as accurate as possible without outside influences. So, if you don't mind…"

It made Emma feel guilty, but she didn't say a word to Newt until later that night when they met in the same room near Dumbledore's office.

"I'm sorry," Emma said, sitting on one of the three sofas scattered in the room. It was a surprisingly massive suite with several separate bedrooms. Emma still couldn't quite remember which room she woke up in, but she was sure she would know at some point that night.

Newt looked up at her with wide eyes, pulling his attention from the scattered papers sitting on the table in front of him. "Pardon?"

"I'm sorry," Emma repeated. "For earlier. I didn't mean to snap at you just for being in the room. It's very unlike me."

Newts soft and shy smile crossed his face, and he shook his head. "I understand," he said. "I know it's invasive to have someone following you everywhere. Believe me, you're not the only…" Newt trailed off for a moment, looking back down at his papers. "You're not the only werewolf who has had a similar reaction to being so close."

Hearing Newt echo a similar sentiment as Fenrir hit Emma like a ton of bricks. The thought had been sitting in her mind since Fenrir first mentioned it to her, but it was only starting to sink in. For months she had settled into the idea of only being half-werewolf, but as time went on, it made less and less sense. After spending time with Greyson, it was easy to see how different they were. Greyson was truly half because of his parents; Emma, on the other hand…

"I'm not just half?" Emma asked, trying to keep the worry out of her voice. If Newt were to say it, then there was no doubt that it was true. Newt was slow to lift his gaze back away from his papers, not looking up far enough to meet Emma's nervous stare, and he nodded.

"I'm afraid that you having a second conscience leads me to believe that you're a werewolf that cannot shift," Newt said gently. "Just from what I've witnessed myself, it seems as though your entire personality shifts before the full moon. From what I've gathered from others, it seems that your personality change is consistent with other werewolves. It's not a bad thing," Newt added quickly at the look of distress that crossed Emma's face.

"That first transformation is what unlocks most of your senses and abilities," Newt continued. "Certain things such as healing and your magic are affected right away as that's needed for the transformation, but everything else is at a stand-still. Your blood hasn't yet been infected by activated saliva, and that is the issue at hand. A werewolf's saliva infects the blood that it's exposed to. As your blood has been exposed to your father's blood, you share the condition, but without the saliva, nothing can progress. It's why the week before the full is particularly difficult for you – your body is preparing for something that it won't undergo, and there's no relief."

"All I need is to be bitten," Emma said slowly. "Again," she added bitterly as she rubbed the bite on her arm.

"By a transformed werewolf, yes," Newt said.

"And someone born from a werewolf?"

"Won't experience life the same way you do. The genetic aspects might transfer, but not always. It's a spectrum. After all, true werewolves are made, not born."

"So a child with a werewolf for a direct parent would be more along the lines of someone who's been scratched outside of the full? They'll experience mild symptoms but not have, well, they won't have their own Soleil?"

"Correct," Newt replied quietly.

Newt's explanation made a lot more sense than what she had been told thus far. Remus and Elara had been working with whatever information they could find but hadn't been able to reach a conclusion. Half was the easiest way to explain it as she didn't transform, and it made sense for as long as Emma had known the truth. She didn't transform, ergo not a werewolf – that was what Elara told her. However, once Soleil came into the picture, the conversation had shifted into the fear she would transform.

Soleil's sudden appearance earlier that year should have been the first indication that they were wrong about her. The wolf curled up serenely in Emma's mind, content that Emma could no longer deny her reality any longer. Soleil had been waiting for Emma to have a moment of clarity since her first appearance, evolving and being equally as insistent as Fenrir.

"But like I said, it's not a bad thing," Newt said. "It's good, actually. It just means that everything has been approached the wrong way in your case. Your case is meant to be dealing with a human child, which you are not, and it's cruel to keep you away from your father. It sounds like the Ministry is picking and choosing what they want to believe to sell a particular narrative from what I've heard. We have no doubt that the Ministry is using you and your father as an example after he was outed, and I'm so sorry for that. Once I submit my findings, they can no longer deny that much."

Emma blinked hard to keep her tears from forming. _She wasn't human_. Not only was she no longer human, but she was told by _a Magizoologist_ and not just any Magizoologist; it was _Newt Scamander_. Her thoughts of feeling like an animal in a zoo were almost funny because they were true, but Emma couldn't laugh. As her thoughts began to wander, Emma wondered if perhaps Hagrid would use her for a lesson in Care of Magical Creatures one day. She was technically a creature, after all.

She couldn't help but wonder if Fenrir was once again taking a plan and using it to kill two birds with one stone. Having Newt's confirmation that she was _technically_ a werewolf meant skewing things in their favor if he was truthful. It would be senseless to keep a werewolf child away from their werewolf parent, but it meant that things would only be that much harder for her. Any real hope and dream she had would be severely limited, if at all possible. In all honesty, it wasn't as though she _had_ to work – Sirius's money could support her, but she _wanted_ to work.

However, Emma could also see Fenrir seizing the opportunity to force Emma to accept what she was. Fenrir had reminded her nearly every day he was with her with a "You're a wolf, Emma" whenever he felt it was necessary. Emma refused to believe him. She could see Fenrir trying to force her into acceptance to make working with Soleil easier. It was precisely the sort of thing that Fenrir would do to her. While it made sense, Emma didn't want the discovery dropped on her so casually with little time to let it process. She especially didn't want to have to admit that Fenrir was right.

When Remus arrived an hour later with Elara, Emma plastered on a smile. Newt wanted to know how Emma responded around another werewolf that wasn't blood related and Elara greeted Newt like an old friend. While Emma was happy to have nearly everyone together, her enthusiasm was lacking. Remus was quick to realize that Emma wasn't at her usual level of excitement but kept quiet. If Elara picked up on her mood, she didn't acknowledge it, and Emma was grateful for it. The three of them were exhausted with the moon the next night, but Newt still needed to observe them together. Luckily Elara knew how to fill the silence and talk about whatever popped up in her mind.

It was surprising when Elara decided that she was going to head to bed early. Emma didn't think that Elara was at all tired and frowned at her feigned yawn. Elara stood from the couch, gave Emma a soft kiss near her temple with a whispered good night. Moments later, Newt bid them goodnight as well and retreated to his room for the night.

The room was silent except for the sound of the still crackling fire and whatever song was playing on the wireless. Remus sat at one end of the couch, a cup of tea in hand and a book in the other. Emma sat at the other end of the sofa, curled up in the corner half-way asleep. She knew that she should go to sleep, but she wanted to stay up for as long as possible. Being with Remus now reminded her of being home or their long nights during her third year. Emma could almost imagine that the book Remus was reading was another essay and her chest ached in longing. All she wanted was to know that she could return home to peaceful nights at the end of the year.

As much as she wanted to keep the silence, she knew that she had to talk to Remus. If she knew her father, he was waiting for her to bring up what was bothering her. He very rarely pried into her thoughts unless he felt that he needed to. She almost wished that he would this time.

Emma studied Remus for a moment, pulling her lip between her teeth as she thought about what to do.

"When were you going to tell me?" Emma finally asked, breaking the silence.

Remus's eyes found hers, confusion flashing behind his tired gaze. Emma's eyes flicked over to Newt's papers now sitting in a neat pile on the table nearby, and recognition crossed Remus's face. His lips pressed into a thin line, and he set his book and cup of tea to the side.

"In the morning," Remus responded just as quietly, rubbing his jaw. "I wasn't going to make you wait. I just needed some time to process it myself. You know that Elle and I weren't entirely sure of what to consider you. It wasn't until I talked to Newt last night when you fell asleep that it started to make sense."

"That means Fenrir has been right this entire time?"

Remus's nod was slow, apologetic.

"Unfortunately," he said guiltily. "But I still can't…I can't _bite_ you. I know that you want me to do it, but it can't be me."

"But you already sired Soleil, so what does it matter? If I'm actually a werewolf –"

"It matters because it's the one thing I swore I would never do in my life. I didn't want to turn an innocent person, and I cannot inflict one of the worst possible pains in existence on you. I didn't want to be responsible for ruining someone's life, and I absolutely never wanted to ruin _yours_."

"I thought we established that you did what you had to so I could be kept alive," Emma whispered. "You didn't ruin anything."

"Sometimes it feels like I did."

"We didn't know that things were going to go the way it did. We didn't…if things didn't go the way they did, we wouldn't know the truth." Emma slid across the couch to tuck herself into Remus's side. "It was my fault in the first place. If I didn't…The point is we wouldn't know the truth, not that I really think it would've mattered in the end, but…"

"I always saw you as mine," Remus said quietly. "You were always my baby girl. I'm just sorry that I –" Emma shoved her hand over Remus's mouth to silence him.

"We're not having this conversation again, Daddy," Emma said firmly. "We decided that we were done with this conversation last year. I'm alive, I'm here – you're my father, I'm your daughter, and that's all that matters. You've told me time and time again that we can't change the past, and we just have to move forward. One day at a time, right? This is just part of that."

Remus pulled Emma's hand away from his mouth and sighed. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead and held her close. "One day at a time," he echoed.

Friday and the full moon's official arrival put Emma in possibly one of the worst moods she had been in. She didn't like having to wake up early knowing that Remus and Elara had to leave to sit in the Ministry for the next twenty-four hours. She wasn't sure what to make of the knowledge that she was _more_ than just half-werewolf any longer. Emma was frustrated and edgy, and she was grateful to have Remus and Elara with her while brewing.

It was nice to have them close by so that she could start to work through her thoughts. It was difficult for her to process, and she tried to tuck the information in the back of her mind, but she couldn't. Even though it didn't change a thing about her, it felt like it changed everything. Emma grew increasingly frustrated as she brewed; her emotions only kept in check by Remus rubbing soft circles into her back. Her frustration only grew when Elara tried to hand her a pile of Galleons when she finished.

"What is this for?" Emma asked sharply, eyes narrowed at the gold coins sitting in Elara's hand. Elara only gave Emma a sad smile in response, and Emma realized what it was for. "You're kidding," she said slowly. "He's been – Fenrir makes _you_ buy it?"

"At least I get the family discount," Elara said with a bitter laugh. "Fenrir's made it impossible to get most of the ingredients. Whether he did it through intimidation or not…You have to take my money. He'll ask about it the next time you see him."

Emma looked between Remus and Elara in alarm, not wanting to believe it was true. She sighed, took the coins, shoved them in her cardigan pocket, and passed a goblet to Elara.

"If he expects you to pay next time, I'll just make sure you get my dose," Emma said. "It's not worth it. He should know fucking better than to pull this shit."

"Emma, it's Fenrir –"

"Well, one day, he'll be answering to me and not the other way around," Emma said darkly, filling a goblet for Remus and herself. "That's if I don't kill him first."

Remus and Elara passed each other looks but didn't comment. Instead, the three lifted their glasses in a silent toast and downed their respective potions with matching faces of disgust. One day Emma would have to figure out how to fix the taste.

It seemed like the day wasn't meant to get any better from that point on. Having Remus and Elara with her in the morning had helped alleviate some of the worst of what she usually felt, but her head _hurt_. When chocolate wasn't helping her, she knew she was in for a rough day. It was difficult for her to focus, and eating felt like an impossible task. She tried to focus on the fact that Remus was pulling her from the castle to stay in the village for part of the weekend.

Emma didn't make it a point to listen in on conversations that she wasn't a part of often, but she found her attention elsewhere that morning. She didn't want to actively think of what Newt was putting in his report and how things would change for her again. Emma chewed her slice of toast slowly, trying to savor the taste of the raspberry jam she opted for. Any other time she would prefer her buttered toast covered with cinnamon sugar, but she wanted something that reminded her of home.

Harry and Hermione had sat down just behind her, and Emma couldn't stop herself from listening in. Their conversation was hushed, but she could focus on what they were saying if she ignored the other conversations around her. She found herself chewing slower and slower as she listened to what they were saying. The second Hogsmeade trip of the month was scheduled for that weekend, and they were discussing their plans, but then the conversation shifted. Emma wasn't expecting to hear Sirius's name come up.

"I have no idea how Sirius is planning to Floo in," she heard Harry say.

"He's probably going to Floo call," Hermione said in exasperation. "He wouldn't be foolish enough to try and get back into the castle again, would he? We just have to make sure no one is around tomorrow night."

Emma frowned, turning herself around to look at Harry and Hermione. The bitter part of her brain wondered if they sat behind her on purpose. Did they know that Sirius hadn't written to her in weeks?

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Emma interjected icily. Harry and Hermione jumped, startled by the tone of Emma's voice.

"Er…" Harry trailed off, looking at Hermione, unsure of what to do.

"Well, Padfoot needs to talk to Harry," Hermione said in explanation.

"Interesting," Emma said slowly. "Nice that he'll talk to Harry but not talk to me. You know, since I'm _his child_ and all." Harry looked taken aback by Emma's sharp tone, but she ignored his look of surprise. Emma rose from her seat and turned her attention over to Justin and his wide-eyed expression.

"I'm not going to classes today," Emma said sharply, her rage bristling under her skin. "I don't feel well. I'll borrow your notes later."

With Newt in tow, Emma retrieved her things and Fig from the dorm and made her way to the hospital wing. It was the only way she would be able to get out of classes all day, and she didn't care if Pomfrey complained about her having Figaro. Before Pomfrey could say a word, Emma pulled the curtains around her usual bed, plunked down on the mattress, and curled up with Figaro.

She startled as Pomfrey ripped the curtains open and glared at Emma.

"Really, Miss Lupin?" Pomfrey said sharply, her hands on her hips. "You're going to come barging into my hospital with no explanation, _and_ your cat?"

"I don't feel well," Emma muttered, just barely lifting her head from her pillow. "I'm staying here until Greyson arrives. You won't even know that we're here. Fig is quiet." Figaro had chosen that exact moment to not be quiet in the least, meowing loudly in protest at being rudely awoken from her early morning snooze.

"Your cat is _not_ quiet, but I will let it slide this time," Pomfrey said, giving Emma a final look and casting a silencing charm as she closed the curtains.

That was where Emma stayed, brooding over every single thought she had until Pomfrey practically dragged her out of bed around dinner time. Emma supposed it was all right as she was no longer able to fake sleeping. Emma allowed Figaro out of the hospital wing and let Pomfrey run through whatever check-up she felt the need to do before being allowed to eat dinner. In between hurried bites of food, Emma started to pace, trying to ignore Newt's watchful gaze.

Emma couldn't entirely shake the feeling of betrayal that Sirius hadn't written to her at all since the last time she had seen him. She _knew_ that Sirius had to go back on the run, knew it was difficult, but for him to find the time to talk to Harry _hurt_. Emma knew that Harry's aunt and uncle were horrible, but it didn't change that Sirius hadn't said a word to her. She knew it was selfish and childish, but Emma didn't think it was fair.

She couldn't stop her pacing, and Emma huffed out a breath when she thought about how it was the sort of thing Remus always did. He was always pacing. Remus was pacing while thinking, pacing while anxious, pacing when he was scared – he was constantly moving. If he wasn't pacing, he was tapping his toes, bouncing his knee to soothe his nerves. But Emma wasn't like her father – at least that's what she tried to tell herself.

Her attention snapped up to the doors of the hospital wing, and she skidded to an abrupt halt as Greyson stepped in. Every thought she had disappeared, and her mind went completely blank. Emma was torn between running to Greyson and kissing him until she couldn't breathe and running as far away as possible to keep him safe. She hated herself when he took a few steps in her direction, and her first instinct was to back away and look back at Newt. She _really_ didn't want to have this conversation with Greyson with Newt around.

"Greyson –" Emma wanted to tell him to just turn around and leave, but Greyson held a hand up to silence her.

"Emma Lupin, don't you dare say what I know you want to say," Greyson said, pinning Emma where she was with his intense stare. His tone was soft but firm, and Emma frowned, wanting to protest. Greyson set his bag down and took a few tentative steps toward her. When he was certain Emma wouldn't move, he quickly crossed the space between them. He took Emma's face between his hands and bent down to be on her level.

"Greyson –"

"No, Emma," Greyson said sharply, cutting her off. "I am an adult, and you do not get to make my decisions for me."

"But it's so much more –"

"Your father already sent me an owl this morning to tell me everything. _I don't care_."

"But Greyson, I'm –"

"A werewolf?" Greyson asked, giving Emma a pointed look, his eyebrows raising at the sudden defiant set of her chin. He sighed, tipping her face up to kiss her softly. "Would be a bit stupid for that to bother me, wouldn't it? It doesn't change a thing – you're still you. I'm choosing to look at it as one less mystery for you to solve about yourself. It's not a bad thing."

"But –"

"Whether or not my father knows about us or knows about me, it doesn't matter," Greyson continued. "All that matters to me is that _you're_ kept safe and that you'll continue to have me as yours. I can take care of myself."

Emma could feel the traitorous stinging of her eyes as Greyson searched hers. She didn't want to cry in front of Greyson again, but she was tired. Even without it being a full moon night, everything would have been too much for her. She tried to keep the tears that sprung up in her eyes from falling, but she was helpless to stop them.

Greyson sighed and straightened up, pulling Emma into a tight hug. When she didn't move, Greyson gently pulled Emma's arms around his body, and she couldn't stop herself from clutching to him hard.

"I will tell you as many times as I have to, but you are so strong, Emma," Greyson said softly. "You're allowed to be scared – Hell, I'm terrified – but it's okay. You have had so many new things come your way in such a short amount of time, and you're overwhelmed, and I understand. But I need _you_ to understand that I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me, Emma." Greyson gave Emma a tight squeeze, letting her cry for as long as she needed, making soothing noises as he rubbed her back.

"Hey, do you want me to tell you something _really_ scary?" Greyson asked when Emma's tears slowed.

"What?" Emma muttered, burying her face in Greyson's chest.

"Well, if you want something to _really_ be scared about, you should worry about the fact that your father suggested a family dinner with everyone in Hogsmeade on Sunday," Greyson said with the hint of a smile in his voice. It was enough to break through Emma's current fears, and she let out an almost pathetic, watery giggle.

"He did not," Emma squeaked out through her giggles.

"Oh yes, he did," Greyson chuckled. "And want to know the worst part?"

"What?"

"My entire family said yes."

"Nooo," Emma moaned. "They did not!"

"Oh ho, yes they did," Greyson said. He leaned back to peer down at Emma with a smile and wiped away her tears with his sleeve. "There was absolutely no hesitation from any of them when I mentioned it earlier today. Everyone is dying to meet the beautiful young woman that I plan to marry one day."

"Grey," Emma said softly. She held Greyson's gaze for a moment and felt her face heat up, and she quickly looked away. Greyson was free with his compliments, but Emma didn't think she would ever get used to them. She wanted to have Greyson's optimism so badly, wanted to believe in the possibilities he did, but she didn't want to get her hopes up. Though nothing had happened just yet, Emma was sure she had signed her entire life away. "I don't –"

"Emma Lupin, hush," Greyson said. "Let me dream. I…" Greyson let himself trail off, and he was silent until Emma lifted her face once more. His smile was sweet, and he lifted a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. "You are incredibly special to me. You know that, yeah?"

Emma quickly wiped away the rest of her tears and nodded, not entirely sure of what to say. She managed a weak smile as Greyson bent down to kiss her once more.

"Now, here's what we're going to do," Greyson said softly. "I am going to make sure that you get through tonight while answering Mr. Scamander's questions if your father's letter is correct." Greyson lifted his gaze towards where Newt was sitting and huffed out a soft laugh. "It appears it's _very_ correct if his curious look is of any indication, but that's fine. I'm here for you because I want to do this for you.

"Anyway, I'll help get you through the rest of tonight, and we'll spend all of tomorrow resting. Anything you want to do, we'll do. I don't care if you just want to sleep all day or go to the library – we just can't go into the village during the day. It's probably safe, but I have a feeling you won't be up for it anyway. We'll make a quick stop at your dorm so you can pack a few things, and we'll head into the village after dinner. We will both suffer through hopefully the first of many family dinners together and be embarrassed over the stories that will be told. If you're lucky, someone might even bring baby photos of me for you to laugh at. What do you say to that?"

Emma couldn't help but giggle at the idea of seeing baby photos of Greyson. She ran her hands over her face and nodded in agreement.

"I think I like all of that," she said.

"Good," Greyson smiled. "You can't let fear get in the way of you living, Emma, so don't let it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated later than I meant to - oops!
> 
> Wwwweeeellllllllll...eeeeeehhhh? Werewolves are weird. Alsooooooo hello meeting the rest of Greyson's family? 
> 
> To all of my late night readers, please have a wonderful night! I love you and good night, sleep well! For all of my other readers, I hope you had a wonderful day!

**Works inspired by this one:**

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